Skyline
by TeeJay Wyatt
Summary: Your simple world is turned outside down when you become the object of affection for the World's Deadliest Assassin after crossing paths.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Lost in Translation **

**A/N: So I binged all the John Wick films in one day and suddenly came to the conclusion that I'm love with Keanu Reeves (and the John Wick character). So that's how this fic ultimately happened. This is going to be another black reader insert fic because why not? Still don't have any idea if I'm good at writing one but I'll take the leap anyway. This might end up being a one-shot fanfic or it might not. I probably won't update again until after Christmas. Sad, I know but I've got to finish my finals strong. The good news is that I'll be working on a new fic soon and updating another. Until then, happy holidays! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own John Wick or the franchise on which it was built nor did I make any profit from the creation of this story. **

* * *

The New York Public Library on 53rd Third Street was always deadly silent when you walked in the huge place. The consistent sounds of your boots on the polished floor ever present over all else and honestly - it bothered you. If there was one thing you hated, it was making noise in a completely quiet space. The action always sent a spike of anxiety up your spine in response since it drew unwanted attention to you. Something you obviously were not fond of. One could in fact hear a pen drop at the front entrance from the very back of the library if they paid the barest amount of attention. And you were inclined to believe that your assumption was not just an exaggeration.

Per usual, there were people seated at long tables reading or thoughtfully looking over documents. If someone wanted peace and quiet while they undertook their normal proclivities in the bright, inviting sanctuary book archive then this was the perfect place. It was definitely one of your favorite places to go. Being a junior in college, you find yourself here in the place quite often. It's in this very institution that you study for courses or simply have an existential breakdown about college as a whole. Basically conduct the normal life of a university student.

You walk to the front desk were a middle aged woman sat reading a thick book with her glasses perched low on her nose - the sight of which made her look much older than she actually was. Having been through this song and dance more time than you could count, you waited patiently for her to acknowledge you. Pulling her eyes from the book, the woman set it down and addressed you in a low, phlegmatic tone.

"What are you looking for?"

"Not That Bad by Roxane Gay please."

The woman nodded once, turning to type the keys of her computer.

The book was just something to hold you over until your copy of 'Angry Black Girl' by Elexus Jionde arrived from the mail. You were a huge fan of hers and copping her book was the ultimate appreciation. It seemed like it'd taken you forever to finally order the book off Amazon. You were the type to garner stacks of unread books at home and still fawn over the library and bookstores. It was a testament to how lazy you are when it comes to prioritizing.

Another woman approached the two of you with said book in hand, giving it to the seated desk attendant who looked it over and then handed it to you.

"Here you are. Due date is two weeks from now if you don't renew it. Enjoy."

"Thank you." You smiled, walking away from the corner with the book in hand, intent to give home before it got too dark and start preparing dinner. Your friends had already invited themselves over the moment they found out you planned to cook. There was nothing in the world that could stop them from eating up everything you cooked.

The sounds of the bustling city, particularly in Times Square were nearly unending. Living in the Big Apple was quite the one in a lifetime experience, seeing as your family was originally from the southern portion of the United States. The illumination, HIDs, and LEDs never failed to fascinate you with the various advertisements and promos. There were an unlimited amount of clubs, bars, theaters, shops, and clubs for people to partakes in. And yet, there it was again - that ominous feeling of being watched every time you stepped out of your apartment. Technically you had no real reason to feel so uneasy - or so you thought.

* * *

_Working in a bar on the late shift came with its own set of hazards. Firstly, you were a female bartender working the night shift. What possessed go into this line of work, you would never know. You just knew the pay check was just above average and you needed to pay your bills and tuition. Though it wasn't really worth the harassment and disrespect you received while you performed your job, you tried not to let it bother you as much. After the first few instances, you'd started dressing in unattractive, conservative clothing just to deter men from hounding you. You didn't think people genuinely understood just how terrifying it is to be a woman in this day and age. _

_After pleas to your employer Rob to simply allow you to clean glasses in the back had gone unacknowledged you did your best to cope with the inconveniences that had started to happen more frequently. Rob being the absolute scumbag that he had insisted that you being out on the floor caught the drunken customers and brought in more tips - the drunken customers in this case being gang members. He essentially told you to put up with the maltreatment unless you wanted to find another job. Something you weren't capable of doing at this particular point in time. People like him were the absolute worst kind of humans. _

_Speaking of terrible humans, the bar just so happened to be filled with them tonight. Majority of the customers were crude burly Russian men, if their accents gave anything anything away. The bar was used to hosting all sorts of people, so this was not uncommon in any sense of the word. What you didn't like was that this particular group of people had not problem treating you like you were an object to cater to their needs rather than a living, breathing person. And so you were not accustomed to dealing with their rude, commanding demands and had no plans to adapt to them anytime soon. So instead of giving into your baser instincts you commenced to working quietly and silently amongst the scuffle of cackles and loud discussions. _

"_Bring another round over here doll!" One man shouts to you as you stand behind the corner. _

_Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you fill three more glasses with whiskey and place them on a round serving platter. This was their tables fifth round within the hour. You listened to their conversation as you quietly sat their glasses on the table. _

"_See I told you. The American whiskey is cheap and lacking in quality. I'd rather have Roguska over this shit." The man grumbled to his companions, one of which had a scantily dressed woman sitting on his lap. The other man seemed content to simply smoke a cigarette and observe. Your face burned and you nearly stumbled when the guy who called you over, leaned over in an intrusive attempt to put his face near your crotch. _

"_Hey there, malen'kiy tsvetok. Would you like to entertain me and company tonight." He purred to you, his snake-like eyes running over the length of your body. _

_You pretended not to hear his words, trying to fight the crawling of your skin at the tone of his suggestive voice. You didn't have time for this sort of thing tonight. You were tired as hell and eager to get home within the next hour. Only placing the last drink on the table and turning to walk away. A strong hand grasped your wrist, pulling you back. _

_Dismissive to your uncommunicative behavior, the man continued to press on with his demand disguised as a proposal. "Oh no. Don't go just yet, stay here for a while longer."_

_For all the drunk, perverted customers you'd ever dealt with, no one had ever taken things this far. His slmily hands on you made things all the worse. _

_Lips turning down into a frown, you tried to pry your wrist loose. "Let go. I need to get back to work." _

"_Better be careful Anatoly. I hear the temyaya kozha are the hardest to break." The man with the cigarette declared, a well-placed shit eating grin on his face. "Though I hear the surrender is beyond rewarding."_

"_Can't be any harder than taming a horse." The man responded, his opposite hand reaching to roughly grab a handful of your backside. _

_Your closed hand found the man's cheek half a second later, the sound echoing loudly through the bar and catching many other patron's attention. The full glass of alcohol was then thrown in the man's face for good measure if the slap didn't do enough of its job. It certainly was enough for him to release you. The rise of anger was long awaited as you stared down the man with no shortcomings of loathing. The constant sexual harassment, disrecpect and ultimately being compared to an animal was enough to send deep spiral of vehemence course through your veins. _

_While the other two men at the table and a few other customers chuckled lowly, the drenched man found nothing amusing about his predicament. Standing from his seat, a gun was subsequently pulled from the man's waistband and aimed at squarely at your chest. You could see inside the dark barrel of the weapon and it looked way bigger now that he was pointing it at you._

"_You shouldn't done that doll." He growled through clenched teeth, eyes burning with an anger that almost made you wish you hadn't slapped or throwing a drink in his face. Now he was gearing up to shoot you in front of the whole bar. You refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cower in fear...not when they were completely in the wrong. If this was how you'd die then so be it. _

_Beyond any other interactions, all eyes had turned away from the commotion towards the door, where as a man calmly walked through it. _

_The bar had gone completely silent in a matter of seconds. The tension in the air was stifling. Your spine instinctively straightened as you sensed the murderous tenseness in the room skyrocket. _

_From the moment you lay eyes on him, you knew he meant business. The black James Bond suit amplified the assumption times ten. His profile consisted of sleek black hair that rested just above his broad shoulders. With sharp, focused brown eyes. Perfectly trimmed facial hair, features ruggedly handsome, the pure essence of stoic. _

_You almost faltered as he did a quick perusal over you before turning his attention back towards the previously rowdy patrons who were without a doubt disturbed by his presence. The look on their faces emphasized various levels of heightened fear. For some reason, they were terrified of the newcomer of whom they were familiar with. Everything changed within the next breath, as your aggressor rotated the gun in the man's direction. This action proved to be a major mistake. _

_The sound of a gunshot barely registered in your mind before you even visibly perceived the man being blown back over a neighboring table. _

_You promptly threw yourself onto the floor as chaos ensued and multiple gunshots rang out over the space. You did your best to stay out of the way by swiftly crawling over behind the corner for refuge. _

_This was by no means your first time witnessing a shootout. Maybe you were desensitized to everything due to the violence that took place in New York on a daily basis. In some areas, crime ran unchecked and rampant with no hope of ceasing anytime soon. This was certainly not how you expected your night to play out. If there was a certain point in life where a person questioned how they ended up in a particular situation, now would be that time for you. By this point, you were thoroughly convinced that this was your record scratch freeze frame moment to ask 'Hey, you're probably wondering how I ended up here.' Like seriously, only you could have ended up in this kind of predicament._

_Like an idiot you chanced a glance your the corner for a brief view of the anarchy. It was hard to focus over the sound of pistols firing at the same time. Never had you seen someone use a gun with such lethality. Shooting a nearby man in the head with frightening accuracy. He essentially took out every Russian gangster in the bar single handedly. Smashing a half empty beer glass onto one man's head then using an existing shard to impale a man in the eye, before shooting him in the head at point blank range. His favored method was simply quick headshots to ensure the targets were dead, leaving brains all over the chairs and tables. The sheer brutality of the acts left you feeling a bit lightheaded. _

_Thereafter, bloodied bodies littered the floor. The only person left standing was the emotionless suited man. You figured that this would be a good time to make your escape, crouching down once more you tried to make your way into around the opposite side of the corner in order to make a break for the door. You silently cursed as stepped on broken glass along the way, the pieces crunching beneath your shoes. You prayed to the God above that it wasn't enough to attract his attention - you'd already had another attempt made on your life. There wasn't room for another. _

_A pair of sleek black dress shoes and slacks entered your direct line of vision just as you reached the end of the nook. The man stood towering over you as you were posed on your hands and knees upon the floor. The state of bewilderment had you feeling much like a deer in headlights, your eyes widened comically while his eyes arrested yours. A quick glance downward confirmed that he still held a gun. Gaining your wits back you stood up from the floor and dusted your clothes free of any debris - scrambling to find something sensible to say to the man._

"_Um...hi."_

_Smooth. Real smooth. _

"_Hello." He answered. _

_Honestly, you weren't expecting that. God, you hated that you were nearly shaking just being near him - not out of fear but from sheer coldness of his demeanor. The thought of what would take place now that you two were the only two living people in the room seriously scared you. What was to become of her? You'd seen plenty of crime shows and come to the conclusion that it wasn't exactly wise to leave a witness after committing such heinous acts against other human beings. Regardless if they deserved it or not. And in this case, they definitely did. _

_You mean, who just shoots over a dozen people without batting a single eye. What in the Call of Duty Black Ops?_

_The thought of dying so early in your young life was not at all comforting or appealing in any sense. But at this point, was there really anything you could do to prevent that from happening? Was it possible to convince the man not to shoot you dead on the spot? It was highly unlikely. Obviously if the man wanted you dead then he'd make damn sure to accomplish that. With everything you'd just witnessed - there was no doubt in your mind that he was fully capable of snubbing you out before you even got a chance to run. _

_And so you stood rooted to the spot - totally expecting to meet the same fate as the poor dead bastards littering the establishments floor in bloody heaps. _

_A burst of vocalised anger rang out behind you as well as a small clicking sound that suspiciously reminded you of a pistol. Whoever it was, they were preparing themselves to fire their weapon. That all changed in the blink of an eye when another gun discharged and warm liquid spattered the side of your face. You vaguely registered the rattle of a body hitting the floor, too spooked to move, eyes widened to a larger degree. _

_The man seemed to notice your shock and discomfort, eyes briefly shining with concern before it disappeared altogether like it was never there. Watching quietly as he retrieved a nearby wet towel reserved for wiping down the counter and began the process of cleaning the blood from your face. This night held a reputable record for surprises from being in the vicinity of a shootout to having your face cleaned of blood by a literal killer. The painstaking care he took to clean your face spoke volumes about his character. Maybe he was not just the ruthless murderer she'd judged him to be only moments after he appeared. _

"_Your shift is over. You can go now." He kindly suggested to her. _

_Immediately you were taken aback, you didn't expect the man to be so...cordial after he'd just killed slaughtered the rest of the bar. Frankly, he didn't fit the bill of a terrifying killer. Regardless of the fact, you were beyond thankful that he was generous enough to allow you to be able to walk away from the massacre unharmed. _

That was the first time you became aware of one another. Though you had no idea that it certainly wouldn't be the last.

* * *

_You'd already emailed your professor and told him you weren't feeling well and couldn't make it to class tomorrow so you could go get box braids. Your appointment was made well a month in advance with your braider Shannon. She was always willing to do your hair no matter what style you decided on. Midterms were fast approaching and you needed a convenient hairstyle without the hassle. _

_You entered the corner beauty supply store, ignoring the Asian man standing behind the corner who was known for following customers, who were for the most part black, around the store. In was well known in the black community how racial prejudice rampant in black hair stores that were usually operated by Asian men who treated customers like thieves-in-waiting. To be treated with such disrespect when the business basically relied on your money was ridiculous. Having to buy products from a store like this seriously pissed you off. You would happily take your business elsewhere if only the other beauty supply wasn't twenty miles away. _

_After short selection period, you purchased five packs of braiding hair and promptly left the shop. No amount of uninterested small talk with the man could undo the hostility that was clearly done shamelessly. There was no point in faking it you summarized as you walked and outside onto the sidewalk. It was after seven, despite that fact the city never stopped it's normal hussle and bussle. Regardless you still hated going out by yourself at nighttime. _

_Bag in hand, you rounding a narrow corner, entering a familiar alleyway about a block from your apartment complex. Unbeknownst to you, three suited suited men stood in waiting, blocked off the opposite end of the alley towards your apartment. Immediately, you stopped in your tracks. _

"_Hello there little girl, can we have a few moments of your time?" The man addressed you in a thick Russian accent, the faux friendly smile was just that. Faux. _

_A few minutes of your time? Even if you asked you knew their reasoning couldn't be good. But what did they want from you? There was an idea. You were the only living witness to a bloody massacre the other night that you still hadn't recovered from. You could bet that the deceased men from the bar were his subordinates. The men were obviously other lackeys with the men from the bar that night. Could they be here to kill you? The idea could be too over the top. _

"_May I ask why?" You queried, in a low voice._

"_You don't exactly need to know why...just that we'd like to have a word with you."_

_Switching the hair of hair to your other hand, you wondered if you had time to retrieve the mace from your purse."Sorry but I need to get going." _

_Chuckling like the simple conversation was the most entertaining thing in the world, the man remarked. "Nonsense, this will only take a few minutes."_

_Without delay, you turned made a run towards the way you came, determined to get away from the dangerous men that seeked to do you harm. By mischance, alarming the sight of two other men suddenly blocking your getaway, made your heckles raise. This was not good. These people were preventing your only two escape. _

_Once you turned back to the first man, you watched as he spread out his arms in an innocent gesture. "The sooner we talk, the sooner you can be on your way."_

_Already fearful and annoyed you cut out a curt reply. "Okay start." _

"_Three nights ago, in the bar where you worked. About fifteen of our men were killed. You wouldn't happen to have witnessed this would you?"_

_Blood suddenly running cold, you swallowed, offer a small nod. "Yeah. But I wasn't the one who shot them."_

_His brows turned up in mocking fashion. "Oh we know you weren't the one who shot them. In fact we know the man did."_

"_Then why are you here asking me about this." That was the million dollar question. If they knew the guy then why don't they just go after him instead of you? _

"_The issue with you is not that you witnessed the event. It's because he allowed you to go free. Why that is of course...we might have a general idea seeing as this particular man is not known for his mercy or compassion. Might you be one of his comrades."_

_Panic filled the recesses of your mind at the implication. "Comrade!? I'd never seen him before in my life. I swear." You shouted. _

"_Oh? Then why are you alive?"_

"_I don't fucking know! He killed them and told me I could go home. That's it."_

_For several long minutes, the men merely stood there and regarded you, not offering a single word of what they might've thought of your explanation. Maybe they were considering letting you go. You truly hoped they were. You hadn't done done anything to deserve getting harmed. _

_Eventually, the front man gave you a nod. "I believe you…" _

_You breathed a short sigh of relief. Sadly, that relief quickly turned to terror when he pulled a gun from his jacket and pointed straight at your person. "So sorry. But we can't have any loose ends...I'm afraid we'll have to get rid of you."_

_Before you could even think of any other response that could keep you from being shot down in the street - the shrill bang of a gun being fired from behind had you withdrawing within yourself and tightly closing your eyes. Vocal noises of panic and gunshots then sounded out around you while you stupidly stood still in the middle with your eyes closed. For approximately ten seconds numerous shots were discharged before the last thing you could hear was a shell casing hitting the ground signalling that everything was over. This however wasn't enough to convince you that everything was all peaches and cream just yet. _

_You didn't even hear the nearing footsteps under a hand placed itself on your shoulder. With a scream on your lips, you whipped around to see a familiar face. The very man who was the source of tonight's threat on your life. He was still dressed in a clean black suit. _

_Placing a hand over your heart, you tried to regain your composure although you were very nearly close to being killed. "Oh my god. You scared me."_

_Despite the emotionless facade, he spoke in a clear concise voice. "I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances." _

_Yeah, no shit._

"_Thank you for saving me. Again."_

That was when things really started to change.

* * *

The bright light from the television gleamed throughout the otherwise darkened living room space. You were supposed to be working an interview assignment for your broadcasting class but the lull of procrastination prevailed. Once your food is cooking on the stove you'd sat down and watched reruns of the Fresh Prince which was much more appealing opposed to the homework you'd been putting off for the past three days. Usually you'd work ahead and have work done well before it's due date so it wouldn't throw a monkey wrench in any upcoming plans your friends. But right now you just couldn't be bothered.

You fully expected to wake up tomorrow and realize that nothing about your life had fixed itself overnight. That fact you were legally an adult was fucking hysterical.

After being a witness to some pretty bad relationships between your friends and family alike, you swore that you would never allow yourself to be put in a situationship with a man under any circumstances. And as fate would have it - you were currently neck deep in one with a mysterious, professional killer. Never say never you guess.

Far more importantly, you find yourself questioning his identity. Just who was he exactly? You often wondered what he did for a living that required him to kill selected people. He could be a twisted police officer in some way, shape or form. Though you highly doubted that. You didn't know much about police training but you knew his capabilities extended well beyond that of even the most proficient law enforcement agent. An assassin maybe? Well maybe that was a little far fetched but you truly didn't have much to go on. To even suggest that an assassin was based in New York was possibly a sign that maybe you'd seen way too many action films with a similar circumstance.

Though one thing was for certain - he was indeed a killer and a good one at that. Surprisingly, that didn't worry you as nearly as much as your acceptance of the reality and subsequent reaction of merely continuing on with your life as if nothing was amiss. Not once had you indicated to him that you were bothered by his 'occupation'. Never once even initiating a conversation about it - just wanting to mind your own business.

Learning quickly that he was a man of few words - even when he did speak he didn't mince them. honest and straightforward. It was with him that the old saying 'Beware the quiet ones' rang especially true. Of course he was a gentleman.

It was enough to feign like things were fine despite the fact you were letting a man whose name you didn't even know yet rearrange your guts from time to time.

Imagine inviting a guy into your home as a kind gesture of thanks and then the next moment he was deep inside of you abusing your cervix. They'd gone from point A to B in only a matter of moments with no explanation whatsoever. There just wasn't any time to properly process it. No time to question it. And so they never had a discussion about what this was between them. You weren't quite sure if he considered you to be his lover, just that you both had an understanding. Though you weren't exactly sure you wanted to just let it be. The topic would have to be explored sometime.

You consider yourself to be very bold and confident but when he was in close proximity - you quickly withdrew into yourself like a turtle in its shell. He was simply a different breed of man. The type of man that you had to tread lightly around. There would be no running over him like he was a pushover. You might've gotten away scot free doing this with your previous suitors but you knew better than to think he'd permit such conduct from you. He was an apex predator; a skilled executioner capable of dispatching over a dozen armed assailants. A one man army. He couldn't be fucked with. Ever.

You were catapulted out of your thoughts when Alexis and Jasmine practically barraged into your apartment like they owned the place, barely offering you so much as a greeting on their way to the kitchen. Once they fixed their plate of food, the three of you gathered at the kitchen island and the wave of gossip soon started.

"So where's your man-friend?" Alexis asked with a teasing smile.

Jasmine nodded from her place in the kitchen, carrying a sprite in her hand. "Yeah. I want to know more about this mystery boyfriend of yours. Why haven't we seen me yet."

You shrug at the question. "I don't know. I haven't seen him for about a week." And it had been a long week of not seeing him, of not knowing where he was. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't slightly worried. "And he's not my boyfriend."

Jasmine rolled her eyes. "Yeah whatever. What's his name again?"

You lips pursed together and you looked away in embarrassment. "I thought I told y'all that I don't know his name yet."

Jasmine sat her drink down on the countertop. "Wait wait wait...so you don't know his name but you've been letting him buss you down in your house...in your bed. For weeks at that."

Bringing a spoon full of macaroni to your lips, you hesitantly pondered the direct question before deciding to evade the question. "Well it doesn't always happen in my bed."

"You know what I mean. I'm really surprised at you. This is the kind of thing I'd expect from Alexis' scatterbrained ass."

Alexis turned to give Jasmine a look that heavily mirrored the Nick Young gif that you loved to use in the groupchat. You had to stop yourself from laughing at the thought. "There's nothing wrong with living on the edge for a little bit. You just gotta be careful sometimes."

"And just where does the careful part come in for you bitch because you are not careful. You reckless as hell."

"You don't have any room to talk Miss Fuck after the first date."

You nearly choked on the food, trying to stifle the upcoming laugh and it ended up coming out as a scream.

Jasmine said, as her mouth twisted into a half smile, she didn't even deny the accusation. "First of all, that was a one time thing. And he was fine as hell, you've done the same thing."

"Mmmhh." Alexis answered, giving you a look and sipping innocently at her drink.

"This conversation isn't even about me so let's keep it that way. Now back to you…" Jasmine stated, pointing a finger in your direction. "What's the tea? Is it just a sex with no title thing?"

You actually had to take the time to process your response. "On his end it might just be sex to him."

The woman was quick to wave her hand dismissively. "No no. The real question is - is it just sex to you? And don't lie either because you will."

Shoulders sagging in defeat, you sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. Maybe. I know I care enough for him. Even if he did come around and we didn't have sex I probably wouldn't mind. I kind of really enjoy his company in any capacity."

"Do you like him in that way or are you just dickmatised? Because I know the feeling and let me just say...it's nothing to joke about. You ever got your wig fucked off?"

"Shut the fuck up Alexis."

"It's just a question. You the one actin all funny about it." Alexis says, laughing at you though her and Jasmine were waiting on your answer, watching you expectantly with serious yet amused eyes.

"Okay and!?"

"...It might've happened and it might not."

The two of them burst out laughing uncontrollably and you have to place a hand over your mouth to keep from joining them. They were so goofy at times it was downright ridiculous.

"Is he one of those men that as soon as they get theirs they don't care if you finish or not?" Jasmine asked, her brows quirking.

"No he's really attentive and his stamina is out of this world. By the time he's made once I've already had three while working toward my fourth."

Jasmine gave a look of approval. "Damn sis. I wish I could find me somebody like that. The guys I mess with get that nut and are done for two whole business days."

Alexis shook her head. "Tragic."

"I just got lucky I guess." You said.

_That was undoubtedly the understatement of the century. _

Alexis got up and started looking through all the kitchen cabinet much to your and Jasmine's confusion. "We need to drink. Where's the Paul Masson?"

Your neck turned so fast it almost snapped. "Bitch get out of my kitchen. We are not getting drunk on a Tuesday night. I have shit to tomorrow."

"Ugh, y'all are so lame."

"Rightfully so."

After your girls had gotten their fill of food and juicy conversation they'd taken their leave and left you alone in the apartment once more. Besides it was nearing ten and they should've left for home earlier. After dark, that's where the danger really lurked about in the New York streets.

A distinct knock at the door drew you attention from the screen and you stared at the door for a few moments before getting up from the couch. Peeping through the small peephole proved useless as whoever was on the other side had casted a dark shadow, preventing her from seeing who was on the other side. You clutched the knob idly, twisting it to pull open the door. You expected to find your friends standing there, seeing as how they often left important items like keys at your apartment when they left.

The blood in your veins chilled the second you beheld the arduous brown orbs staring into yours. The look made you froze up in the doorway. There stood the man who'd been on your mind for quite some time. Your stone faced savior stood in his normal suit, hair slicked back from his face, eyes burning with a recognizable emotion. An emotion you were quick to ascertain. However, there were numerous small cuts and a bruise on his face, as if he'd been in some violent altercation. An altercation that he was no doubt the victor. For a man that you knew kept himself in peak physical condition, the wounds were surprising. Nevertheless, the wounds were still a source of worry for on your end and you entertained the thought of running to get your first aid kit.

Being the highly perceptive man he was, he acknowledged the concern on your face, brows drawing down in a look that exhibited no cause for interest. In other words, he was not bothered by the wounds and you shouldn't be either. Immediately, you felt very vulnerable under his hard gaze, your exposed legs starting to feel like jello. Face heating up as you realised that he was unwittingly drawing you into the depths of his powerful focus. Once your cognizance caught up you noticed that you were just allowing him to stand out in the hallway while rudely staring in his face. Flushing, you stepped back to permit him entrance inside, which he wordlessly obliged.

He stood in the space of the apartment, before uttering in his low timbre, "I hope I'm not imposing at this hour." His voice was deep and masculine, it really fit the bill for the killer image he had going. Truthfully, you were somewhat intimidated by him and being in such an intimate predicament with him any amplified that by ten. Though you'd never known him not to be reserved and polite.

Your mind was full of uncertainty and you were quick to lapse into a bought of silence as you noticed that he wore his extremely guarded expression as usual. You were clad in an oversized t-shirt with only white panties underneath and fluffy socks while he was dressed in his customary flawless black suit. By the time the food was prepared was prepared, there wasn't really anything to do but wait for them to arrive. And you were raised to clean as you cooked so at least your apartment was presentable. The same could not be said for your appearance however.

"No of course not! Um, I cooked dinner if your hungry. You can help yourself. If you'd like." You sheepily stated.

"You changed your hair."

Your hand unconsciuosly reached up to touch the hair. "Uh yeah. I know you're used to seeing the huge pineapple puff sitting on top of my head."

Great. Now you were shy.

"You can change the tv channel. I was watching a show but I've already seen all the episodes." You stated before venturing into the kitchen to wash the few plates and utensils in the sink. From there you quickly settled into the mundane process of rinsing and washing. It might be seen as rude to just up and leave the living room but it was a welcome distraction from the individual in your apartment that you didn't even want to look at. This wasn't the first time he'd shown up at random and likely wouldn't be the last. And though you'd never let him see that you were always eager to be in his presence, you'd rather die than alert him of the fact that your heart seemed to want to pound out of your chest when he was around. The trick was to feign nonchalance.

And often you didn't know what to do with yourself in his presence. There was no playing it cool around him. Hell, there was barely any real dialogue between you two and you always find yourself losing the little staring contests that get unintentionally initiated since you're unable to maintain eye contact for longer than five seconds. Only enough tension to cut through butter proof glass in a single stroke.

You didn't realise that you'd zoned out until a familiar heat signature overshadowed your form.

You took a deep breath, the hair on the back of your neck not stand on end as you realized that he was silently standing right behind you. Footsteps had not alerted you to his presence, no he was too stealthy for that - it was the familiar musk of gunpowder and consistent light breaths of air against your skin. You learned not to underestimate the time it took for him to close the distance between you two with rapid fashion. You continued on with your task, pretending as if you didn't know he was there; too nervous to take a chance and decide on another course of action.

Against your own will, you could feel the excitement rising. It was as if your body knew what was coming and started to anticipate the next course of action. Adrenaline rushing within your veins soon followed. You felt that dangerous, lethal energy from him, the one what would soon reduce you to a submissive, simpering mess in a matter of minutes.

You almost flinched when the man delved into your neck, burying his face in your neck, inhaling the sweet scent lingering on the skin. His steady arms wrapped your danity waist, doing nothing further simply engulfing you in a warm embrace.

Subtly glancing over your shoulder, you observed him quietly elegantly unbuttoning his white dress shirt. He didn't take the fabric off completely, he only undid the first five buttons exposing the expanse of his sculpted chest. There wasn't one time where you could recall getting flustered over a man exposing the slightest bit of skin. You weren't a young schoolgirl fawning over a new-found crush; you were an adult woman fully capable of controlling her emotions. At least when he was not present.

Thinking of what would take place between you two after such a long absence instantly transported your mind into a trance-like state of lust. Every nerve ending began to come alive under the touch of his deadly hands. Every inch of your body suddenly feeling abnormally sensitive and longed for his tough to grace your body. He was well-versed in the art of seducing a woman, the process almost entirely punctilious.

One hand placed itself against the small of your back, applying just enough pressure to push your top half forward, essentially bending you over the surface of the sink. Apparently, the man didn't give a damn that you were busy washing dishes. It seemed as though his absence had taken a toll on him as well. It had been too long since you'd received his libidinous affections and now that you were faced with the reality of him actually being here now; sent thrills up your spine.

The man moved to languidly reposition himself to kneel on the floor behind you; large hands simultaneously taking hold of your hips. You let a small startled gasp as he began to explore your bottom half, hands rubbing and massaging your curvaceous backside - generously admiring the glorious swell of the soft globes. You'd found out early on that he had a fascination with it and obviously was not used to dealing with women that had the same attributes. Sliding his palms down to your amble thighs, seemingly to ease the tension out of them. He didn't like it when your were apprehensive and often worked to ensure you were comfortable with his ministrations.

Fingers hooked on the inside of your panties, easing them down past your legs, ensure himself access to your femininity. Moist pink flesh met his perceptive gaze, swollen folds encasing your entrance, the flesh growing increasingly soaked by the minute. Tongue caressing the small bundle of nerves, lathing the flower in slick saliva. Unintelligible noises fell from your mouth as the man persisted with his sexual torment. Your willing body prepared to take whatever he planned to give you. The sensation of his solid tongue on your sensitive slit left you practically weakened. It made you thankful that you didn't use the dishwasher this time around.

Your arms began to grow weak from holding yourself up, mind trapped in a blissful fog. You were sure that you were close to collapsing from his erotic ministrations though any attempts at pushing him away would be met with blanant disregard. There had already been plenty of instances were the man merely held you down in response after you attempted to squirm away from his carnal desires remaining wholly indifferent to your helpless moans.

Shifting your mind back to the present, you felt him maneuver his wiggling muscle deeper in your tight opening, drinking in the sweet nectar that gushed into his waiting mouth. Up and down. Round and round in quick circles. The stimulation was so sinful that you couldn't resist squirming as a spur of elation uncoiled in you stomach. The alluring call of orgasm loomed over you, threatening to engulf you whole. Your head lulled backwards, braids cascading down your back in an enticing fashion as he ate like a starving man who hadn't eaten for days.

You eyes shot open when he pulled away, a sudden unsatisfying emptiness filled your subconsciousness at his absence. With quick hands, he turned you around to face him. The expression he was regarding you with was full of unadulterated hunger. His eyes definitely conveyed his emotions better than unspoken words. His normally tamed hair was somewhat unrestrained in the wake of their salacious activities, eyes burning darkly. When you glanced down, you noticed the tent in his slacks revealed just how well-endowed he was. And you found it hard to believe that you'd been taking it inside your body for the past few weeks.

His dexterous palms were pleasant as they gently kneaded over your supple curves, outwardly enthralled by the feeling of your silky skin. Any other time you might've been ticklish at the feeling but now you could only manage unbridled desire. The way in which he slowly moved his fingers were entirely soothing and you wanted to melt. Leaning down he captured your lips passionately, melding his lips against yours, dipping his tongue in shortly thereafter.

Taking you into his strong arms, maneuvering you how he wanted you were delicately placed onto the open space of the counter, your left side laid against the hard surface. You found the position extremely perverse and revealing, as both your legs were positioned close together as if you were sitting in an invisible chair of sorts. With this position, he had a perfect view of everything including your small snug vulva tucked between puffy lips.

To tell the truth, you weren't sure if you could maintain this position for long and had a feeling that he knew that. That's why he was taking the initiative to support you like this. Gripping your hip, he pulled the curvature of your bottom towards the edge, keeping you there in that position.

He carefully lined his member to your body with deadly precision, leisurely guiding the hot pulsing shaft to your heated cavern, preparing to penetrate.

The tip of the hitman's pillar of flesh pressed against your canal, reaching every conceivable place of your insides. The moment the man's thick shaft began easing it's way into your taut soaking entrance, you convulsed, lost in the haze of pleasure and pain. Your eyes were clenched shut and your mouth fell open to expel a weak cry of pain. The stretching and discomfort was always the worst part for you and it didn't help that your muscles tensed up in a futile attempt to accommodate the welcome intrusion. Keep in mind that he was not easy to take whatsoever, you could hardly believe that you'd been taking him all this time.

A gasp sprang out from between your lips as the man established a rhythm of of digging deep into you, pulling out and then slamming back in. Your soft globes bouncing against his hips and groin, hitting the deepest spot with your sensitive pussy that make stars explode behind your eyes.

Your right hand tugged on his biceps, legs trembling as your heated womanhood struggled to accommodate his length. You groaned throatily as a wave of pleasure washing over your entire form, making your heart race. Moaning softly your gaze was mostly dazed and blurred, mind wandering through an ocean of rapture.

He knew your body better than you did. He was well-acquainted with the tautness of your body. Already familiar with your erogenous zones. It's what practically made you obsessed with him in a short amount of time. That and the way he whispered foreign words to you whilst continuously joining your bodies together passionately.

Tears seeped from your eyes in perpetual flows as you sucked in a breath, the sensory overload almost too much to handle. Thighs starting to lock. The loud slap of moist flesh canvassed the vast majority of the kitchen area, your shakily cries almost just as deafening. The slow, yet forceful pace of his strokes made it felt like your soul was ascending to heaven. You eyes could barely stay open. You writhed under his intense pounding and thrusting, inner walls quivering delectably.

He seemed to push his weight harder into your squeezing body, fingers grasping your waist even tighter than before. Your warm core was gushing around his hard, piercing manhood and you almost couldn't stand it.

Brown hues drunk in the breathtaking image of your twisted, pleasure induced features. Your delirious state probably looked inherently unsexy through his half-lidded eyes. You tried not to focus on the thought and more on the fact that his dick was hilt-deep inside you, stroking back and forth. The tight knot in your stomach was gradually building.

The orgasm was overly intense and had you screaming at the top of your lungs. The aftershocks made your body even weaker, practically reverberating through your dripping and now filled cum sex. Thank God for birth control. It was the first time you could recall where he'd cum during the first round of sex. Maybe he was feening for you just as much as you were for him. For long moments, you two didn't move from your now awkward positions on the counter, seemingly content to stay completely still for a while longer.

You stared into his eyes, undeterred when he simply stared back. There was a question plaguing your mind and you planned to get an answer. "Can you tell me your name?"

He blinked, seeming regarding your question carefully and you truly thought he'd decline to answer. Instead, he proved you wrong by responding with, "It's John. John Wick."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Vanishing Point**

**A/N: Hey, I'm back! Y'all have no idea how eager I've been to get back to this story. I don't know why, but the concept is just so interesting to work with and not just because Keanu is so dreamy. Most of the story is going to mainly be from the female OC's perspective since I believe that reading from John's perspective takes away from the mystery of his character. However, there will be certain points in the story where I'll have to expand on John's actions and feelings. I'm sorry if this chapter seems rushed or sudden. I have a million things to do in the next coming weeks and I wanted to get this out beforehand. I promise I'll make it up to you guys next chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

"John Wick." You repeated, letting the name resonate on your tongue as to accumulate familiarity.

_So his name's John? That's pretty anticlimactic and common though the last name Wick made it significantly more fascinating. _

You didn't know what name you were expecting to hear but it certainly wasn't that. In reality, you weren't really sure if he looked like a 'John' but what was a John supposed to look like? A middle aged divorced man with two rebellious teenage children that came to visit him every other month or a seventy year old supreme court judge with no family who's extremely dedicated his work. Those were oddly specific but they sure got the point across. Regardless, you were absolutely confident that the man intimately positioned over you was neither.

With this realization, your raddled subconscious allowed you the luxury of regaining your full awareness back in seconds. You found that were still lewdly situated and openly exposed on your side across the kitchen counter, still essentially joined together by genitals. Embarrassment came flooding in and you started to chaotically rack your brain with ways to convey just how uncomfortable you were at the moment. It was not an easy feat to tell a man that your were self-conscious about him still being inside of you and wanting him to pull out. Given that, the man above you was still staring resolutely at your now mortified face made it even more difficult not to mention awkward.

As luck would have it, John was able to correctly discern the emotion on your face and carefully withdraw from your body. You both loved and hated the feeling, going from full to empty within a matter of seconds. There was just something about he left your body filled with his essence and slowly withdrew as if he detested to do so. You were quick to clench your legs tightly together in response, knowing that if you did not the combined juices would start to leak out. You were able to lift yourself into seated position on the counter, limbs feeling incredibly too weak to offer full support. John wasted no time helping you off the surface and onto your feet.

"Thank you." You whispered.

Without his help, you probably wouldn't have been able to get down own your own due to shaky, unstable legs. Now you stood in the welcome cage of his strong arms, inhaling the distinct aroma of masculine cologne and gunpowder, and gazing up into his deep brown eyes. It was something you found yourself doing quite a lot when given the opportunity, it was hard to resist. The feeling it gave you was indescribable, heat would bloom inside your chest, your chest would start on an erratic pace, everything troubling your mind would dissipate at once. This man had the ability to entrance you just by being present - and you willingly accepted it everytime.

Before you could stop yourself, a hand came up to lightly brush over a bruised cheek. Expecting him to pull away from the contact, you were surprised when he responded in turn by leaning more into the hand. You realized in that instant that it was moments like this that you truly craved above all else. Just to be able to establish such a warm connection with someone like him, was all you needed.

Though you were reluctant to ruin the moment, there was something you needed to ask. "Are you going to leave now?"

There was no question that the highly perceive man could ascertain the clear emotion in your voice as you posed the question, especially since you'd deliberately asked in a tone that made it sound like you would break down in tears if he so much as affirmed your suspicions. You were more than prepared to use your puppy eyes to your full advantage.

The room was silent for a few moments before John put your worries at ease by stating, "I'll stay."

You nodded and hoped that your smiling expression didn't closely resemble a spoiled child getting their way because it was certainly how you felt at the moment. Seeing as you were an only child you kind of were used to getting your way.

While still in the man's embrace you chose this moment to run your eyes over the length of his clothing. There were tiny specks of red stains embedded in some of the black and white fabric. Knowing what he did for a living, there was no need to wonder if it was blood or not when you knew it was. A clear estimate of how long the stains had present couldn't be determined, all you knew was that once the stains start to set in, they were nearly impossible to get out. It appeared as though John and his clothing were in need of washing.

"You're dirty. Come on, I can run you a bath." You said.

You lead him by hand to the modest bathroom only accessible through your bedroom. Your whole apartment was nice, although it was the bathroom that you were most pleased about. The bathroom always smelled of freshly washed linen. There was no granite countertops, or extravagant walk-in-shower with multiple showerheads. You weren't ashamed to admit just how simple your bathroom was; just how you were fine with it. Fine with simplicity. Most people would say that having a small bathroom was a problem but you actually found it quite satisfying.

The taps were turned on and the sound of water filling the tub soon became the dominant sound. Reaching into a nearby lower cabinet, you retrieved a jasmine scented bath oil that you were quite fond of using and applied a generous amount into the water. After being told about the oil from your mother, you soon became addicted to buying them. This particular bath oil contained relaxing and supposed healing properties for the body and mind. Sitting on the edge of the tub you decided that the aromatherapy would be good for the slightly injured man standing calmly behind you.

There it was again - that lingering interest that begged for you to question any and everything surrounding him. Where had he been all this time? Where had those injures come from? It was a pain to constantly have to push those thoughts away and let your curiosity go unanswered. Too much curiosity would ruin the vibe. If John wanted you to know more about him then he would tell you of his own volition with absolutely no coxing on your part. Not that you didn't already have an idea of what he was; it was 'who' he was that you desperately wanted to know more about.

You didn't notice how deep in thought you were until you the rustle of clothing caught your attention. Seeing as how you did offer to run the man a bath, the sight of him undressing shouldn't have shocked you as much as it did in that moment - your eyes becoming glued to the exposed skin. Practically salivating as he started stripping down in strategic fashion, you had to maintain your composure by taking in a few calming breaths. Frankly speaking, it should be a crime the way you were ogling the tall, well-built man. The thoughts running your mind were beyond inappropriate. Even now, you were thoroughly convinced that the man was aware of your improper perusal.

Watching silently as he nonchalantly removed a gun holster with a gun from around his hip, then carefully removed a switchblade hidden against his calf, the man placed the deadly items onto the bathroom cabinet. A phone was also placed on the counter as well. There was little to no emotion as he did this.

John kept an aura of stoicism around him at all times, or at least when you were around. You just loved when a man had a controlled level of arrogance - a man who need he was the shit without being overbearing. He was also very quiet but you could tell that he was never a man of many words anyway. With him sometimes no response was a response in itself. You knew that some men's empathy only went as far as their attraction to you. As a matter of fact, one would argue that no man that was interested in you was going to disappear for days at a time without at least informing you first. But you know full well that this was a special case. John Wick was not a normal man. He'd only been gone for a little over a week but you missed him all the same.

Mentally shaking off the feelings, you did your best to ignore his unclothed form and started gathering the clothing within your arms. "I'm going to wash these before the stains set in." You explained, thoroughly convinced that the stains had already made their home in the fabric.

Showing emotion was something the man was not quite fond of in the first place yet he seemed surprised by the fact that you'd offered and even more surprised that you had no questions about where the blood came from. After receiving a simple nod from him, you were out of the bathroom and down the hall with a quickness that startled you. Opening the door to the small washroom near the kitchen, you started a fresh load with only his clothes and a sizable amount of washing detergent. There wasn't any way the stains would come out if you didn't use an excessive amount.

Once that was done, you tried to buy time by lingering near the operating washer and counting the time in your head. Essentially ensuring that by the time you went back to the bathroom to check on him, he'd already be in the water. Hopefully, your timing was on point.

By the time you ventured back to the bathroom, from the doorway you caught a glimpse of him stepping into the water and you quietly admired the never before seen tattoos on the man's muscled back. There were scars there too. The tattoos and scars only added to the mystique of his person as a whole and the danger he poised was beyond alluring and immeasurably sexy.

Something occurred to you at that moment, in your flustered haste you'd forgotten to moderate the tap so the water could be lukewarm and tolerable. Not everyone liked to bathe in scalding hot water. Yet he seemed perfectly fine with it, not showing any indication that the temperature bothered him. Instead, the man was resting his tired body in the scented water, inaudibly sighting in pleasure.

"Aren't you getting in?"

At that very moment, your chest tightened and your eyebrows shot up. "Huh?"

"You're dirty...you need to bathe." John softly warranted, the glint in his eyes letting you know what he took your earlier words to heart about implying that he was 'dirty'. By saying this, he letting you know that you don't get away, you just get by for the moment.

By this point you were sure that your face had morphed into an expression of horror, eyes blinking owlishly at him. Realizing the gravity of the situation had words were stuck in your throat. How could you have forgotten the issue of still being filled to the brim by him only a short while ago? You were still walking around in a big t-shirt with his essence coating the inside of your thighs. Truthfully, it was not something one should be able to forget so easily.

This man had seen you in various states of disarray and yet you found yourself terribly self-conscious about your naked form being on display. In your intimate moments, you both had never stripped completely, some semblance of clothing always remained. The thought of objecting briefly crossed your mind a few times before notion of accepting ever emerged. And you weren't naturally shy by a long-shot but you couldn't hardly manage the thought of being exclusively naked in front of him. Undressing in front of him suddenly took the number one spot for scariest thing in the world. Despite being totally comfortable allowing the man to plunder the most intimate place on your body, conserving your modesty became the highest priority in an instant.

John's teasing gaze was beckoning you from your place at the door, silently urging you to move from the place and heed his request. It wasn't like he was forcing you to do this, you had a choice. Worst case scenario, he saw you fully naked.

The effort it took to push down the wave of anxiety was remarkable. With any more further incitement, you moved shaky palms to assist in easing off your clothes, the garments falling to the tiled floor softly. You were doing your absolute worst trying to pretend that your heart wasn't going wild inside of your chest and intense heat wasn't pooling between your thighs once more.

He was watching you with intent, eyes illuminated by the many lights within the bathroom. There was a hint of amusement dancing in them. Now that's what shocked you...that look. He'd never given you such a look before. John stretched his arms along the rim of the tub and leaned back in a reclining fashion. It was one of the sexiest things you'd ever seen.

It was at this point that you became aware and that there was no point in lying to yourself - you loved his attention. Practically craved it. There was nothing like being desired by a man, having his full attention, and having him release all his built up passion unto you ever chance he got.

The oval bathtub was surprisingly large enough to accommodate the both of you. You literally wasted no time sinking down gracefully into the water, the heat emanating from it was oddly satisfying. You were were sitting opposite from John between his parted thighs. The reality of being in the bathtub with a man for the first time was almost too much to process.

Reaching over to the adjoining nook, you easily retrieved body wash and a small towel. After applying a substantial amount of body wash to the towel, you lathered it up. Began scrubbing his body free of any evidence of his interesting day.

The purpose of bathing is for personal hygiene and you were determined not to let your unpredictable libido get in the way of that. Diligently washing every inch of him both above and below the water - skillfully transversing the slopes and contours of his skin. You didn't intend for the touches to be sexual in any capacity, only wanting him to get clean though you were sure that the sensations evoked some burning reactions within him. In fact, you'd be lying if you said that you didn't feel the same way. The nature of your sexual relationship was a clear testament to this.

You held the cloth under water for a few moments, letting it absorb as much as it could, bringing the engorged towel above his head, you squeezed water on the brown silken tresses. He closed his eyes as you do so without any prompting. The water stuck to the strands thus enabling the hair to flatten on and around his face. After giving him a small smirk of satisfaction basically confirmed to him that your intentions behind doing so were done for the sole purpose of taunting; drenching him in water just because you felt like it. Because it pleased you.

With a growing sense of confidence, you languidly trailed the soapy cloth across his abdomen, gently dragging your nails across the skin there. You couldn't help the way you paid close attention to the way the steaming water rushing down and over his porcelain skin. The soapy cloth

His eyes opened once again to reveal piercing brown orbs. You face felt flush when you realized that he was staring at your uncovered nipples. John's calloused palms felt good on your skin, fingertips dancing on skin much like you were doing. When his hands started a path up and down your sides you were quickly pulled away with a giggle. Of course it would surprise him that you were extremely ticklish.

There was only one part of him to clean now. With no pretense for being coy, you directed your wandering hand to close the soft, wet fabric around his length beneath the water. Making the effort to lightly stroke him as a means to pretend as though you were simply cleaning him.

The physical contact told you everything you needed to know, that you two were getting to know each other on a deeper level. And him staying overnight obviously wasn't planned. Nevertheless, you felt like him agreeing to stay over did strengthen their bond somewhat. It wasn't like one or the other was making things more complicated; you both were imposing into the other's life indiscriminately.

After a while longer, exchanging affectionate touches and taking turns cleaning one another, you made the decision to leave the bath before your skin started to shrivel up like a prune. Instead of drying off in front of the man, you ventured into the bedroom to dry off and redress in an oversized t-shirt and panties. You faintly heard him getting out of the water before he followed you into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Presumably, he brought no extra clothes with him and his only clothing was being washed at the moment.

"Um..I'm going to check on your clothes. I'll be right back." You left the room to place his clothes in the dryer. After having done so, you returned to the room to find him already in bed under the covers. Your weren't even gone longer than five minutes.

In defiance of the aura of detachment, he did look exhausted. Instead of falling asleep it was highly likely that he'd passed out.

Walking closer to the bed, you observed him fast asleep on the left side of your bed, an arm lying over his stomach. Despite everything, you were more than happy that he felt comfortable enough to fall asleep beside you. Without much prompting, you slid in the bed, maintaining a reasonable distance between you two. There were a range of emotions that you dared not put a name too as you stared at his sleeping visage. His usual hardened face was relaxed in the midst of sleep. You watched his chest rise and fall with every breath until you felt sleep creeping up on you. Turning over, you sighed and buried your face in the soft sheets.

* * *

Presumably it's the middle of the night when awaken whilst rolling unto your left side for comfortability. The soft sonance pulled you out of sleep. Moonlight from the window on the opposite side of the room allowed the barest of light into the room. John is still on his back in a deep slumber and you were loathe to disturb him when he looked so peaceful. He was ruggedly handsome.

An idea crossed you mind at that time, whether it was good or bad you couldn't really ascertain. Reaching over to your nightstand, you picked up your phone carefully not to let too much light into the room in order to avoid waking him. You went to the camera app and turning on the flash. One quick picture was all it took - it was all you needed.

* * *

The blinds were closed but that didn't stop light from peaking in through tiny crevices. It's now nine o'clock on a Friday morning and find yourself briefly entertain the thought of emailing your professors and telling them that you were coming to class with no explanation whatsoever. Forgetting to set your alarm was a pain in the ass and luckily you hadn't woken up late but now you planned to sit on the edge of the bed until you were late anyway. This was the life of an undergrad apparently.

The other side of the bed was cold and empty. The body once lying there having been gone for some time now. The least he could do was tell you that he was leaving, not that he really owed you an explanation. The truth of the matter was that it perplexed you about how he was able to leave the bed without alerting you with a single movement or sound. You were not a heavy sleeper in any sense of the expression. In the end, you guessed that it was a crucial requirement as a killer to go undetected when doing most tasks. Even something so simple as not waking another person up as you left the bed.

This didn't disappoint you however, it wasn't like you'd wake him up with kisses then prepare breakfast for him. That was way too personal and domestic. There was no way you'd be willing to bare your soul to him and truthfully you knew better than to expect the same from him.

The sight of the wad of cash on your nightstand near your phone almost sent into cardiac arrest.

* * *

The morning air was a little chilly but as you wrapped your jacket more tightly around your form, you summarized that it would hopefully let up by noon. Today was one of those crisp bustling days in the New York streets where thousands of pedestrians were constantly on the move and minutes quickly turned into hours if one had plethora of tasks that needed to be completed by the days end. Multiple signs flickered and buzzed and cars whizzed by unapologetically. Reaching the campus could never be an easy feat when there were there were busy masses of people scurrying to their destination in every which direction but that didn't stop you from continuing on with a hurried stride.

There were about twelve buildings on the campus that made of the campus; each building was a different department for students based on their program. Instead of heading straight to the journalism department, you went right into the student center where on-campus was located.

You were currently six weeks into the fall semester. Your professors had only begun to put names to faces and single out their favorites in the class. Besides maintaining a neutral attitude towards college and you only attended because you knew it what most young people leaned towards. From your perspective, college was somewhat of a scam that heavily favored capitalism.

The two classes dragged by so excruciatingly slow that you were inclined to believe that the universe had made the cosmetic decision to only fuck with you today. The professor droned on and on about the subject matter and for you it went in one ear and right out the other. When you got a text from the group chat about meeting at Alexis' job you left the class twenty minutes early.

Alexis worked in a really high-end clothing boutique in Midtown and had a boujee white man for a boss that really hated to see you and Jasmine come around. Honestly with the way he acted toward people of color, it actually puzzled you how Alexis even got hired.

It was probably made worse by the three of you cackling loudly in the lobby area where Alexis was supposed to be helping customers.

"Soooo I have news." You started.

Both of friends were at attention.

Jasmine leaned on one of her hands as she got you a raised eyebrow look. "Okay spill."

You shifted on your feet. "Okay so, right after y'all left...he came to the apartment."

The gasps and looks you received were nothing short of humorous. "I know you fuckin lying."

You had to shrug and turn your head away in order not to laugh in their faces. Their reactions were already anticipated and with no effort at all they could reduce you to the most intense laughing fit known to man.

"Nope." you said.

Alexis was beyond giddy to hear about the new development. "What happened?!"

You played the nonchalance up just to get a rise out of them. "He just dropped by the apartment and talked, that's it."

"I'm not accepting that, I need details." Alexis asserted.

And Jasmine was right behind her. "Yeah bitch cough it up."

"First off what time did he come by and what did yall do?" Alexis questioned, ticking off fingers as she emphasized what she wanted to hear.

You were preparing yourself to be judged by both his conduct and yours.

"Do I really need to say what happened. Y'all already know what went down."

The way they screeched after hearing this would have your eardrums ringing for hours afterwards.

"Oh my god..you bitch! Really?" Alexis shrieked.

"Yeah. I managed to snap a picture while he was sleeping, you know after we did the deed."

Alexis nearly jumped over the counter as you unlocked your phone and Jasmine nearly knocked you to the floor trying to peer over your shoulder.

"You mean after he dicked you down?" She asked.

"But why are you taking sneaky pics now? All this time y'all been fooling around, you'd think he'd be your man by now." Alexis probed.

You don't know what possessed you to grab your phone to take a picture of him while he slept, only summing it up to be an impulsive action that you felt the need to perform.

"He's probably got dirt that he don't want uncovered or misses at the house. Those are legitimate concerns for a man that you have to sneak pictures of."

"Shut up."

You didn't believe that for a second. Sure he was secretive and guarded but who wouldn't be when they were in the profession that he was. The kind of profession where you offed people without a second thought and disappeared for days at a time with no contact. There would be a lot of speculation and mystery surrounding him and it wasn't your place to question and demand that he telling you about it. What good would it do to construct and entertain a false narrative or assumption about him. One thing you would not do was go looking for any negative reasons or aspects about his character. At the end of the day, nothing or nobody could sway your opinion about the man.

In the back of your mind, you knew what was going on even if he omitted telling anyone who he truly was and what he did for a living.

Not to mention that John had saved your life. Twice at that. Now he was sleeping with you and leaving you money.

Ignoring your intuition came with its own set of heavy consequences. Were you ready to deal with the fact that you were sleeping with a man who was always required to be armed for his own safety. Did you really want to discuss the situation in full detail? The notion made you tense up involuntarily though there was an optimistic possibility.

After all, you did in fact witness him shoot scores of people, perhaps it was his way of ensuring your silence. The idea made sense though it certainly was a weird way to go about it, not that you were complaining.

You could decide to voice any concerns or true feelings about him with your friends but for now you choose to keep your inner thoughts close to your own chest.

"All in favor of a girls night out in celebration of a friend receiving a healthy dose of penis...say I." Alexis proposed.

"I." You and Jasmine simultaneously respond.

"Motion carries. Let the record show that a girls night out will officially begin tonight after seven."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: One of Those Nights**

**A/N: Listen, those translations were straight from Google Translate so don't judge me. **

* * *

Alexis recommended the club through her long list of privileged friends that had connections. The plan was to meet up at your apartment and drive to the club in Jasmine's car. In all fairness, you had never even heard of _The Red Circle_ before tonight and never been there. Apparently, the nightclub was one of those exclusive spots on the other side of town. Despite this, you conclude that you could really do for some fun and laughter as you riffle through your closet for a decent outfit. There were plenty of short skirts, graphic t-shirts, and jeans but essentially not that could be considered an adequate clubbing attire.

You wanted to look good tonight, like you're attending one of Beyonce's famously exclusive parties that you always dreamed about as a superfan. In all, you were able to settle on a off-white corset top with a short flared skirt, and a pair of lace-up heels. It wasn't often that you felt uncomfortable showing a lot of skin but tonight wasn't one of those nights. Arranging your braids into a high ponytail, you left a few braids left hanging in the front. You made sure to beat your face extra pretty tonight, adding lashes for that extra umph.

You were fully engaged in a group facetime with your Jasmine and Alexis while you got ready.

"Don't you wanna invite your boyfriend? We don't mind if you have a plus one."

"I'm not going to invite him to our girls night out regardless. Knowing him, he probably has other shit to do anyway."

"Like what?"

"Hell...I don't know. Whatever he does at this time of night."

"See you're not on your job. Since y'all fucked, you're supposed to be borderline stalking him now. He doesn't do anything you don't know about. That's the rules."

"Okay, crazy bitch." Jasmine laughed.

"Call it what you want."

"Nobody wants to be checking for someone like that. Especially a man."

"If you ask me, I think he has somebody else at home." Alexis confidently said.

The assumption struck a cord of anxiety in your gut. The idea could definitely be a possibility and you didn't put it past the secretive man. The two of you didn't know each other that long and you felt like the relationship was in its infancy stage. He didn't seem like that type to be unfaithful to his spouse if he did in fact have one. Regardless, you'd rather not be burdened by assumption.

Jasmine smacked her teeth. "Would you be a side piece for four thousand a week?"

"Four thousand a week? I don't mind being a little potato salad." Alexis noted, comically serious. Her light brown cat came into view of the camera, to which Alexis then proceeded to nuzzle close to her face. "Isn't that right kitty boo boo."

You had to shake your head at the display. "You and that cat..."

"Polly knows what's going on."

"What kind of person names their cat polly?"

"Umm, me. Duh."

"Whatever, the two of you need to get your asses over her asap. I wanna pregame first." You urged, you needed something to take your mind off of the topic at hand.

"Yes ma'am. We'll be right over. Just making sure my wig is secured."

You burst out laughing at that.

* * *

Pulling up to the nightclub with its grandiose entrance, a long queue waiting in line outside signaled the start of the night. The city really came alive at night, on every avenue, in bars, and in clubs. Instead of waiting in the long ass line, Alexis simply dapped up the bouncer. Allowing the three of you full clearance. Good thing you had a social butterfly for a friend, it really came in handy sometimes.

The first thing you noticed was LED and strobe lights and scantily dressed women dancing on raised platforms. Blasting electronic music that you were in no way fond of. Off the bat, you knew that the drinks would cost an arm and a leg. That had the potential to kill your mood along with the bodies touching and pushing against yours as you tried to make it to the bar. The dance floor was expansive and illuminating with colorful special effects. Honestly, you really didn't like the fact that the club had the tendency not to play urban or rap music because they thought of it as distasteful. Not only that but apparently, people were taking turns doing coke in the bathroom stalls. Learning that helped solidify that this spot just wasn't your cup of tea. This club was not it.

You summarized that there wasn't much to do besides stand around awkwardly and watch people.

You, Jasmine, and Alexis took up three seats at the bar. As usual, Alexis went straight to Snapchat while Jasmine fought to get in the camera. You didn't want to be a party pooper but this just wasn't doing it for you.

"Such a pretty woman. Me and you could have some fun." A voice from your right side laminated and you turned to see a man suited fellow smiling directly into your face. His voice was thick with a Russian accent and this automatically puts you on edge, his sleazy face twisted into a lecherous smirk. Not to be paranoid, but every single encounter you'd had with someone of a Russian decent ended in disaster.

"No, I'm okay." You answered, face portraying nothing short of disinterest.

Your patience was already wearing thin. The guy had no intention of respecting your boundaries and that in itself was a red flag.

"Awww don't be like that. You can come back to my place. We don't have to do anything."

Rolling your eyes, you thought he could come up with a better line than that. "I may have been born but I wasn't born yesterday."

"What? Are you too good for me?" He asked with his arms outstretched.

"I never said that. In my eyes, if you're a person of value, you have to carry yourself differently. I can't be any and everywhere and allow every single person that comes around to have access to me. It has nothing to do with arrogance, please understand that."

"I'll tell you what...you come to VIP with me and I'll show you a good time."

Your brows arched in clear displeasure. By this point, you were fighting with the urge to knock the annoying asshole into a coma. This guy was the biggest piece of shit you'd come across in a long time. His constant badgering after you'd already expressed disinterest was seriously getting under your skin in the worst way. He was like a little dog that wouldn't stop humping a stranger's leg no matter how many times they pushed it away. How many times did you have to rebuff him before he finally took his ass somewhere else? There was no way anyone was that dense - you refused to believe it.

You didn't want any dealings with his peanut head ass and you thought you were making that pretty clear.

After shifting the chair, you swiftly vacated your place at the bar without a word. What was the point in announcing your exit? The sleazeball didn't even deserve that from you.

Luckily, your friends weren't far away as you mumbled over the music, "Can we go somewhere else? I just can't with this music."

"Yeah, it's not cutting it with me either." Jasmine added.

"Well shit Lauren said it was a nice club."

"Girl, Lauren lied."

"Okay, let's go then. I wanted to go The Mirage anyway." Alexis said, as she linked arms with the two of you, moving to maneuver through the dancing crowd towards the illuminating exit sign.

* * *

The music blared loudly in your eardrums, encouraging an enthusiasm in your chest that wasn't present in the first club. The Mirage was much more 'urban' as the white locals liked to say. The place was usually the go to club for you and your crew anyway. Thankfully, every seat at the bar wasn't taken and it allowed you a chance to down a few drinks before you joined your friends, who immediately ran to the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd. You didn't want to think about how much of a pain it was going to be to find them in the fray.

You'd become acquainted with a bottle of Hennessy and it had you feeling more loose than usual. Before you knew it, you engaged in an endless cycle of dancing on the floor then running back to the bar after every song. After a while, you were decently drunk though not sloppily drunk, as both of those were two different things. And you expressed pride at knowing your limit. Regrettably your serenity of your surroundings would be tainted just a moment later by the untimely arrival of an unwanted guest.

"You should really reconsider my offer."

Turning to the side, you noticed the mouthy stranger from the club. Your mood instantly tanked with this fact. You were too tipsy to be dealing with anything that didn't make sense to you.

"No. I'm here to have a good night out with my friends and you're getting in the way of that. Move around." _Couldn't you indulge in cheap liquor in peace?_

The fact that he'd followed you and your friends to another club wasn't all that surprising. Had the liquor not been clouding half of your senses, you might've felt a sliver of fear at the prospect.

Some men were so creepy and performative for pussy, there was virtually no difference between them and dogs rolling over for a treat.

The bartender with whom you were familiar was paying very close attention to the interaction. As a former bartender yourself, you'd seen just about every shady trick in the book and you were quite certain this man was trying to dupe you.

A wad of cash had been placed on the counter in front of you. "Here. I'm sure this is more than what you're used to. There's more at my apartment if you're interested."

Guys like him were the reason why it was very important for the three of you to arrive and leave every social function together and not leave anyone behind. No matter where women went, there was always the threat of rapey ass men skulking around after dark, preying on vulnerable women. This situation being a clear example of this.

In trying to outright ignore his presence, you feel bile rushing up into your not irritated throat. You staggered off the stool to the bathroom before the contents of your stomach ended up in the middle of the floor or worse, all over your person. There was nothing worse than a drunk person vomiting everywhere in the club. Plus you didn't want people to see you vomiting your guts out in full view.

In the bathroom you expected to be dirty and disgusting, the music continued thumping in the background. The bathroom was actually quite decent and you were grateful for that. The smell of piss flooding your nostrils would surely have you feeling even more ill. Heels clicking along the floor, you hurried into a stall and placed your head over a toilet, careful not to get too close or touch anything. No matter how much you gagged and dry heaved, nothing wanted to come up. Even with nausea clawing its way up your throat, your stomach wouldn't even contract. Taking a few moments to ground yourself, you took some breaths to regain your composure before shakily standing on your feet which were starting to hurt.

A wave of nausea from standing too quick and the beginning signs of a headache were starting to make themselves known as you left the stall. With unwanted symptoms like these, you expected to be home early tonight. The only thing you could do now was wash your hands and leave. What you didn't expect, however, was to see your harasser standing blocking your path. This predicament should've sobered you up quick given the danger involved.

"I really don't have time for this." You sighed in exasperation.

"Then save us some time by coming with me."

"No! I don't fucking know you. Leave me alone."

Your hackles rose when he started advancing towards you with his arms outstretched. "Come on now sweetheart-"

"Back up! Don't even come towards me! Move outta my way."

The man put his hand to his face in clear irritation, gritting his teeth in the process. *"Ugh, ya ne znayu, pochemu oni otpravili menya imet' delo takoy malen'koy sukoy, kak ty."*

"I don't know what the fuck that means!"

"It means I'm gonna cut your fucking face up if you say another word you mouthy slut." He growled angrily, eyes burning with clear cut vehemence. The look sent chills through you.

You knew it was only a matter of time before his true colors came out to play. Men like him only play nice until they're denied their wants.

With your phone in your left hand, you contemplated calling your friends but there wasn't a guarantee that the call would even make it through before he got to you. Regardless, you still had to try.

"I wouldn't if I were you." The guy advised, obviously knowing where your thoughts were going. But if he thought he would scare you out of calling for help he could think again.

Instead of going for your phone first, you took off towards a stall behind you, intending to lock him out then call for help. Sadly you couldn't move that fast in heels and he was much quicker than anticipated. A harsh grip on your braids was all you felt before you were being dragged away. Your phone fell from your hand, landing on the floor with a hard thud. Your scalp was stinging and tears began gathering in your eyes, with how he was pulling you might lose a few braids.

"What did I just tell you huh? *Tupaya shiyukha."*

Obviously, this guy meant to abduct you from the club for God knows what. You damn sure had no intention of letting him succeed in this plan. No woman wanted to be followed or murdered because they told a man no.

You'd his restricting hand in order to ease the pressure off your scalp. "What is this about? Are you mad at what I said or are you mad because it's true?"

"I said...shut the fuck up." He hissed. He produced a gun from the inside of his waistband, placing it on your chin. Suddenly, the oxygen got caught up in your lungs. The realization that the man now held a loaded gun to your face was starting to sink in. The fear was crushing. _Did he mean to kill you?_

_Seriously, what was with men and their rejection issues?_

The sound of the door opening could be faintly heard. Out of the blue, your captors eyes shifted to place behind you, the gun pressed into your face moving to take aim.

You were startled by a fist driving into the man's nose with a sickening crunch. You fell into the wall with a primarily hard impact, sinking to the floor as you turned to watch the scene with wide eyes.

There your savior stood in all his deadly grandeur. You were more disturbed by the fact that you never saw him coming. He moved like a shadow. He'd broken your attacker's nose with a single punch, blood was spewing all over his neck and chest in ropes. Now your attacker was cursing, no doubt seething that he'd been interrupted from committing a heinous deed. Every move was deftly coordinated. The way he punched and kicked with pristine efficiency. John was capable of a sophisticated type of combat and gun mastery - an assortment of skills unbeknownst to you.

In a matter of twenty seconds, he'd disarmed and beaten the man with a combination of hip throws, sensible strikes, and kicks. Easily overpowering your attacker until he was well-placed for a bullet to the head. The icy, piercing look he gave you as he calmly held the gun to the man's head. Briefly, you thought about pleading with John not to kill a man in a dirty club bathroom but the disgusting things he'd done and said to you couldn't be overlooked. Although, the last thing you wanted was for the sound of gunshots to rang out and send the whole club into a frenzy.

The man began what sounded like a pathetic plea for mercy but John would hear none of it.

"Everything has a price." He said.

A single bullet embedded itself into the man's head, blood spraying out from the back of his skull. The sight was a brutal one and you had to turn your head. The way John regarded him, it was like he already had unfinished business with the man. You wouldn't be surprised at that.

John Wick was effortless in every sense of the word, everything he did was effortless. The reality was that he was a hitman, a professional hitman at that. His expression was hard and serious as it landed on your person. He moved to hover above your slightly swaying form as you regained footing, bending to place a chaste kiss on your lips, likely as a confirmation that no actual harm had come to you. It was then that you realized, his actions were a claim of possession, not just duty.

"So you're following me now?"

"I was following him, following you."

It made sense now, your attacker had connections with Russians from the bar the night you and John met.

Maintaining some measure of trust between the two of you was essential and he made you feel protected. The main concern now was letting your friends know that you were leaving with someone you felt safe with. Without prompting, you let him lead you from the bathroom.

* * *

"Nice car." You giggled as he led you to a black mustang. After carefully securing you into the passenger seat, John rounded the vehicle and slid in placing the key in the ignition. The rumble of the car somewhat made you jump as the purring vehicle sent vibrations throughout your entire body. The way he was tearing through the streets like a madman, tires squealing,suddenly made you wary about attracting attention from the police. But you couldn't help but admire how well he was maneuvering the beast with well-executed turns and gear changes.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed him sparing concerned glances at you seemingly to ensure that you were fine. You found this a little enduring if not sweet.

* * *

This hotel was really high-end. As far as you could tell in your current state, the place was intricately designed with elegant furnishings and architecture. Beautiful artwork and paintings were placed delicately around the interior. Stepping into a place like this had you feeling like an important dignitary or royal. With a gentle hand at the small of your back, you were led past the reception area to a lift.

The suite itself held antique furniture, a spacious walk-in closet, and a large bathroom. The room was dressed in light, soft hues, providing a relaxed yet inviting atmosphere. The space smelled of fresh linens and the intoxicating aroma of jasmine. It was so easy to immerse oneself in the cozy ambiance and that wasn't with any help from the huge flat screen television. Moreover, the windows let in an abundance of moonlight while providing the best view of the city. For a split second, you thought about searching the suite for the complimentary chocolate the staff often left along with the over-priced bottles of water. The rich, sweetness would reawaken your dulled taste buds and you some solace after the night you'd had.

You walked barefoot across the carpeted floor, feet feeling relieved to finally be out of those heels. Throwing yourself on a nearby couch, a random bout of giggles started rising from your stomach and you had no control to curb them. John on the other hand, seemed slightly bewildered by your behavior as he moved to make himself comfortable. His suit jacket was removed and placed over a chair near the nice looking table set. His tie soon followed. This seemed to be his normal routine when coming back from a 'job' and it wouldn't surprise you that he was a night owl.

Glass from a metal bucket was dropped into a glass and a shot of bourbon was poured soon after. The amusement in his eyes let you know that he was not completely oblivious to how you were lounging on the couch ogling him with heated eyes. Undoubtedly, John's perceptive eyes surely noticed that your skirt had lifted a few inches, revealing a portion of your smooth blemish free upper thighs. Your skin felt flushed and hot from his innocent touch alone. This wasn't a surprise however as liquor always made your body run a few degrees higher, almost like you were running fever. Striding over, John then took a seat on the couch opposite of yours, regarding you with a sharp gaze. The nonchalance in which he did things always made you so hot.

"You've been drinking." John's deep voice was laced with concern, having sensed your unusual pattern of behavior for tonight.

"I mean I'm drunk but I'm not drunk drunk."

He offered no opinion of what he felt about your explanation merely continuing to impassively observe you in your current state. With no more conversation being brought forth, you decided to let your innermost thoughts be vocalized. For a moment, you wondered if he would mind you asking him personal questions about his secretive life. There were an infinite spectrum of possibilities that could take place if you poised the questions you wanted the answers to. _Good thing you were drunk for this. _

"Can you tell me what you are? I know you kill people...I've seen it on two separate occasions and I just wanna know." You hiccuped.

There were other questions brewing at the tip of your tongue just waiting for answers but this one held the most importance. There was constant inner turmoil when it came to him. Like the money situation. That needed to be elaborated on. He was not the typical hookup. You had no business getting involved with a dangerous man like him, but that was the way life worked sometimes. You felt like you knew him enough but at the same time, you knew next to nothing and there was almost a sea of uncertainty in the back of your mind. Tonight, he murked a man in a dirty club bathroom for you; that alone warranted some description of feelings for him. Not only that but there were multiple occasions where John showed you affection, even while under his blanket of indifference.

In a casual hookup, feelings weren't supposed to be remotely involved so soon if not ever. In fact, nearly all your interactions had been familiar, not at all reminiscent of two strangers hooking up every now and then. But when dealing with someone like John Wick, it was damn near impossible. He excluded that intoxicating, bad boy persona that easily ensnared many women without much effort. There was the general feeling that he knew a great deal about you and had seen you at your most exposed and yet, you admittedly didn't know a thing about him beyond surface level. Whether you liked it or not - you both were helplessly bound to the other.

A few seconds passed before he even offered an answer. The ruggedly handsome piece of man liked to take his time even when answering a question. The glass of dark bourbon didn't pause in its pursuit towards his mouth as he took a generous sip of the liquid before he smoothly murmured, "I'm a hitman."

_Finally, the truth rears its invasive head. _

In all fairness, you already had a gut feeling you just wanted it to be confirmed by him. "I thought so. This is something I thought I would process when I was completely sober but I'm processing right now. I don't know how though."

He offered a small barely there smirk at your uncharacteristic behavior and word vomit.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah...why did you leave that money on my nightstand? Is it like hush money or you wanna be my sugar daddy or something? I never thought I'd be into older guys but I can make this exception."

A brow lifted at that. "How old do you think I am?"

Shifting into a sitting position on the sofa, you pushed your braids from your face. "I don't know it's hard to tell. Are you at the halfway mark or just starting dialysis?"

"Dialysis." John said this with a straight face, though his tone carried traces of amusement. The dry sense of humor really worked for him seeing as his deep monotone voice never held any emotion.

Unable to stop yourself, you burst into another fit of giggles. Although the thought was funny, there was no way this polite, suit wearing, gun toting man was on any sort of kidney treatment; nor was he older than fifty.

"One last thing...are you going to pop up and save me every time I'm in distress?"

"Perhaps."

The tension in the room skyrocketed to the point where it was palpable and steadily rising with each second. The naked hunger in your eyes was so open, you were sure that John himself was hesitant. There was an internal ache that you needed him to soothe.

The horniness had you too preoccupied to pay any attention to your more rational thoughts. You wanted to listen but your eyes kept drifting down to stare longingly at his crotch. Openly admiring him brought on many lustful thoughts, namely the thick facial hair around his strong jawline and how pleasurable that would feel grazing the inside of your thighs. Apart from that, you were trying to come up with a polite way of insinuating, "_I don't mean to be rude but can you fuck me?"_

Though you were confident that his trained ears would pick up on the implication.

"Language." He admonished you like a strict father, eyes snapping to yours in a heartbeat.

"Do you want me to ask nicely?"

"That would be preferable."

"Please fuck me."

Brown eyes narrowed at your cheekiness. You knew that he didn't like you cursing or using any foul language but you couldn't help but be saucy at a time like this. It was the perfect opportunity to tease the normally stoic man.

There was a huge energy shift in the room and there was no way of telling where this would lead. His body language suggested that he possibly knew of the nasty images flooding your mind at the moment. Right now, you had no shame about blatantly fantasizing about him while being in his presence. That's probably why he was careful to maintain his distance from you.

This of course, wouldn't do. The familiar weight of his muscled body on yours sounded more appealing at the moment. As a matter of a fact, your walls were quaking at the thought of having the man inside you so soon. You found that your resolve was steadily slipping and the alcohol had already taken over. You desperately needed him in your guts tonight, preferably now.

Sliding away from mischievously, you slowly crawled on all fours until you were between his slightly open legs. The man made no comment, merely regarding you with a inquisitive gaze. Running your hands over his thighs, you began nuzzling your face against his thighs and crotch in a loving manner. Before long, your hands slid down his pressed slacks towards his confined dick, massaging the imprisoned organ. Hands made their way to the zipper of his dark pants, slipping inside to caress the thick organ. Looks like tonight's agenda would consist of catering to the man's shaft.

The flesh was already stiff and hot in your grip. Pulling away, you brought a hand to your mouth to add saliva before you start making up and down motions on the muscle. Soon the slit became wet with an abundance of moisture around the head. Unable and willing to ignore your wants, you placed soft open mouth kisses on the member. Your tongue traced over every ridge and vein.

His jaw clenched as he felt your mouth envelope the sensitive head of his member, dipping your tongue into the slit. Sweeping up the pearls, while smearing the wet tip across your pouty lips, slathering the pre-cum and leaving a glossy residue. Without much warning, you swallowed as much of it down as you could, cheeks hollowing as your throat contracted around him. How all of this was going over well with your sensitive gag reflex, you had no clue. The length was pulsating in your mouth all while you were slurping up pre-cum like it was a delicacy in the midst of staring up at him through long lashes. Maintaining eye contact with his darkened eyes with a mouthful of his dick as he watched with veiled arousal. All of this was done shamelessly.

John merely sat back against the couch with his arms outstretched, eyes heavily lidded as you made out with his member. It had to be a scandalous sight. Though he seem a little shocked by the boldness, or more accurately, erotic impulse. You could feel his firm shoulders tensing and his chest rising and falling with an increased intensity, as you continued sucking eagerly. You had to be doing something right. By no means were you a pro at giving head, in fact this probably wasn't that far off from your first introduction. There was a lot of sloppy, uncoordinated motions being done, quite possibly spurred on by the alcohol in your system. By now, your shy nature had been pushed back on behalf of your nasty, aroused side.

Having his dick in your mouth didn't much bother you at all, given you'd never done this to him before. The sense of pride, simply not there anymore. Besides, doing this made you more wetter than you could ever remember being.

His eyes closed for a moment when you started forcing your head even further. What surprised you was that he didn't grip your hair or force you to move at a certain pace - he simply allowed you to do what you wanted. The feeling of a hair at the back of your head drew your attention and you pulled away from his pulsing, hot flesh, a string of saliva still connecting.

You didn't want to put any thought into your appearance. Flushed cheeks, tear stained eyes, saliva running down both corners of your mouth. John sure didn't seem to mind it.

His strong hands moved you into his lap, thighs spreading across his own. Pushing his body flush against yours, John embraces you tightly. He always felt so firm and strong and it felt good to be in his capable hands. And you wasted no time dipping to kiss and lick the juncture of his neck in earnest. You could feel the muscle in his jaw tensing and summarized that he must be particularly sensitive there. Guiding you around from his neck, he leaned forward so that his forehead was nearly touching yours. A hand reached between the two of you, quickly finding and rubbing your heated core. Slightly calloused hands slid up your thighs beneath the skirt, coasting up to your panties. John then pulled the damp fabric down until it was free from your body. Let his fingers slip past the folds that covered your entrance, John sought out the most sacred place on your body.

All of his movements were graceful and thorough, all the while radiating powerful masculinity simultaneously. The two of you stared into each other's eyes for a long while, nothing but the sound of breathing breaching the silence. John's searching hands ran over the silk fabric of your top, pulling until the top was bunched below two perky breasts. Giving the breasts a tentative squeeze, earning a shriek of delight that escaped your lungs. Your nipples were already hardened by the time he got his hands on you. He nipped the swell of one globe before sucking it into his mouth. Knowing that you were overly receptive to his adept touches.

Dizzy with wanting, grasped a hold on his silky black hair. You knew what came next after this and you didn't want a slow and tender reacquaintance tonight, you preferred him to skewer you over and over again. Honestly, you wouldn't mind him being rough with you. Sometimes you found yourself craving it above all else.

Easily hoisting you up from the couch, John carried you to the bed, gently depositing you on the comfy surface. Immediately, you sat upright, staring up at him under thick eyelashes.

He folded his arms coolly across his broad chest, watching you laid out on the bed, eyes glittering with masculine satisfaction. The way in which he did this was admittedly very sexy, perfectly mindful that he was turning you into a puddle of hormones. His length strained up, pressing up against his stomach on account of the tantalizing suction it'd just received.

As he towered over you his prying digits found your clit, lightly brushing over in the process. Making you arch towards the fingers with a soft moan passing through your lips. A long finger tilted up your chin, leaning down to capture trembling, swollen lips.

His entire weight was soon covering you, lips eagerly devouring yours with a vigour seen many times before. Pressing his throbbing manhood against your naked mound, he commenced to gently rotating his hips, the wet friction was almost too much. You released lusty mewls in response to his actions. Desire had flushed over your skin. The heat from his body left and you watched as he towered over you while he nonchalantly undressed. Removing a gun holster and unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing smooth skin on inch at a time before moving to his slacks.

Aside from the fact that he'd been rawing you from the beginning, the man's dick was anything but easy to take. Your legs were soon splayed open wide and hooked in the crook of John's arms. This position was like a quiet assertion of dominance for him.

He sank to the hit, pushing past clenching muscles as they attempted to lock down on him. Fully stuffing you full of long, girthy dick, whilst exhaling quietly. The onslaught of sensations had the ability to take your voice away and leave you breathless - and it did. It wasn't hard to fall into a stupor.

You would come to learn that John's style of fucking was highly potent, every movement graceful, measured, and with purpose. The act itself was breathtaking to watch and experience. Being jabbed, pushed, and stretched by his shaft was everything. The pleasure was dizzying. Shallow thrusts gradually deepening, your muscles locked, breathing turned shallow, and the thinking process fell below control of your five senses. Lungs heaving, the feeling of heat spreading across your abdomen.

You whimpered loudly under his degree of control and deliciously punishing grip. A brisk toe-curling pace was established. You moaned and panted, head twisting in the sheets as the hitman continuously dove into that sensitive bundle of nerves tucked inside your walls. Not breaking his stride, he leaned down to capture and swallow a sultry cry while bearing his weight down into the stubborn tightness.

"Ahh..it feels…"

"Feels what?"

"Feels go good."

Unintentionally digging your nails into his flesh as he swiveling his hips just right into your sweet spot with calculated precision. You were so out of it that you didn't realize that you were screaming. To make matters worse, his right hand was gripping into your braids, holding your head at an angle he preferred.

The phone on the bedside table began to chime loudly, pulling you from the grip of bliss that ensnared your train of thought. The hand in your hair slipped away to take the piece off the hook.

"Yes?"

Never in a million years would you have thought he would answer the phone while he was still deep inside of you.

The faint outline of a cultured voice could be heard on the other end. "I apologize for calling at this hour but we have received a number of grievances from your floor concerning the noise."

"My apologies, my guest and I were engaged in a...very intriguing game." His statement started with the reinsertion of his member and its withdrawal. Ultimately, leading to the continuation of the impassioned action.

"Oh, have you the need for a restraint or silencer?"

His low voice rumbling your shaking frame as he held a normal conversation on the phone. "Perhaps, I'll have to get back with you." The phone was placed back a second later.

"No more loud noises." He encouraged huskily.

He was informing you that you had to be quiet from now on because of noise complaints.

"I'm sorry...I don't think I can hold it in."

Wordlessly, John's hand slid up to cup the area between your jaw and neck, securing a firm grip. This somewhat startled you, you'd never been choked during sex before and he didn't strike you as the type. John now had a hand wrapped around your delicate throat, effectively trapping any noise that tried to slip out.

"Vy dolzhny nauchit'sya sledit' za svoim rtom." The hitman whispered into your ear, hot breath making you shudder.

Him speaking to you in that low authoritative voice was like kryptonite. In your mind, a myriad of emotions burst through, merging with fervent desires that raged in your system. Just to know it was near had your gut tightening. Gripping your curves to keep you in place. Gripping the sheets. John then increased the pace in which he used to stroke causing unbearable heat to burst through your lower half.

"I ne prosi o veshchakh, s kotorymi ty ne spravish'sya."

Dipping to your ear, your lover started speaking to you again in that deep baritone, punctuating his words with deep thrusts into your tight orifice. "Ty moy. Ty prinadlezhish' mine."

Warm wet walls constricted around him. With how wet you were, you could barely feel his length anymore. The way his dick moved inside, it was like a riveting game of slip and slide. The sound of wet flesh smacking together filled the room.

"Eto zatavlyatet vas chuvstvovat' sebya khorosho?"

You nodded a response as best you could, not really understanding but unable to get any words out to convey that. He rewarded you another demanding thrust into your womanhood, pounding intently until you could hardly withstand the delicious ecstasy any longer.

He was practically swimming inside you with merciless strokes, silently watching as your abdomen convulsed and molded with the outline of his dick, squirting juices along him and the sheets. You were barely conscious of your surroundings anymore. The only thing you could register was the assassin's shaft sliding in and out of your sopping wet core. With devastating effects on your insides. A spasm of pleasure swept throughout your form, pussy weeping in relief. Riding the wave of ecstasy.

Before long, your trembling body was contorting against the sheets. Mouth falling open with a small cry of rapture, teetering orgasm just on the precipice. The feeling an earth shattering sensation. An inaudible groan could be heard before the feeling of cum shooting deep inside you was discernible. John lips found yours once more as the cum continued spilling, the pulsating organ sending small jolts into your frame. Everything was beyond erotic.

* * *

A/N: Here's the all the translations for those of you like myself who don't understand Russian.

*"Ugh, ya ne znayu, pochemu oni otpravili menya imet' delo takoy malen'koy sukoy, kak ty."* - "I don't know why they sent me to deal with a little bitch like you."

*Tupaya shiyukha."* - *"Dumb whore."*

*"I ne prosi o veshchakh, s kotorymi ty ne spravish'sya."* - *"And don't ask for things you can't handle."*

*"Eto zatavlyatet vas chuvstvovat' sebya khorosho?"* - *'Does that make you feel good?"*

*"Vy dolzhny nauchit'sya sledit' za svoim rtom."* - *"You should learn to watch your mouth."*

*"Ty moy. Ty prinadlezhish' mine."* - *"You're mine. You belong to me."*


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Gut Feeling**

**AN: Another chapter in less than a month, I'm on a roll. Plus I wrote this chapter while dealing with a severe case of stomach virus. I'm so surprised by and grateful for all the love and support for this fic. Make sure y'all are washing your hands and staying safe! **

**P.S: In light of recent depressing events in the U.S, I thought it was important to remind everyone that I'm pro-black asf and I don't care who doesn't like it. I'm riding for my people always. **

* * *

The veil of darkness began to lift as your eyes fluttered open, slowly bringing you into awareness. Pieces of consciousness began to break through your mind, sifting through the murky confusion. One by one your senses started to resurface, the drowsiness sweeping over you was causing mild discomfort. The coolness in the room was greatly welcomed. You couldn't stand a humid room. It bothered your soul. You were practically buried in the cool sheets of the bed and the opposite side of the bed was empty. A dry mouth revealed that you were beyond dehydrated.

A soft noise drew your attention towards somewhere else in the room. John came into your line of vision, fully dressed and unruffled, nary a hair out of place. The man's hair was slicked back, and a custom fitting charcoal suit hugged his body. You paid extra attention to the details, like the notch lapels, two buttons, and the monochromatic clothing underneath. It had to be one of your favorites so far. You observed how he moved around the room and outfitted various items back unto his body. After a moment, the man noticed that he was being watched as your eyes locked onto each other.

You tried to lean up but a wave of dizziness and an irritated throat prevented that. "Water." You requested, throat sounding more scratchy than it should.

John with his usual attentive self, brought you bottled water from a place near the bar which you messily gulp down. Strangely enough, you had no throbbing headache to contend with, and that was a first. Besides the dehydration and initial sluggishness you summarized that the symptoms were at least tolerable. Having John carry you around and pacify you wasn't a burden you wanted to place on him.

A small glimpse at your phone revealed that it was around nine thirty and showed a few messages from the group chat clocked at different times that you decided not to open until you made it home. You needed a moment to process one of the most satisfying nights you'd ever had.

There was a pleasurable soreness between your thighs, the area being your freshly nutted in cunt. Seeing as how you'd fell asleep right after there was no point in urinating. Sex had become such an essential ritual for the both of you. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't addicted to it already. What could you say? The man was gifted when it came to snatching your soul and you were sure his dick had superpowers. For you, it was mind/body battle everyday. Honestly, even now you felt a little embarrassed that you wouldn't mind initiating another session. Not only that but you didn't want to get used to wanting him, yet you didn't know if it was too late. For all you knew, you were probably knee deep by now.

To tell the truth, you were still debating if you wanted to fully accept his gift of money. Many people would happily take it with no questions asked. The man had casually left you a thousand dollars like it was nothing to him. Maybe it wasn't. Murder for hire seemed to be a lucrative business. A business that paid especially well. However, it still felt weird to appease each other's sexual needs then be given monetary compensation. For a while, you thought about what you could spend that money on. Though perhaps it was better to put the money in your savings for a rainy day.

You watched quietly as he resumed rearming himself while you gathered your bearings, carefully refitting weapons on his body. A handgun was placed in a holster strapped securely across his chest. A small knife was even positioned in a place on his belt. Having been acquainted with him for a while now, you knew that this was a normal occurrence before he left to go anywhere. It was his protection. And considering his line of work, it was heavily required.

Grimacing as you struggled to lift yourself up from the lying position, you moved into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, feet making contact with the carpeted floor. Without any prompting, John strode back over to you, with your discarded clothing, now neatly folded. Instead of handing you the clothes, he sat them on the bed next to you before gently moving the sheet that concealed your nudity. Your cheeks flushed but he'd already seen your exposed body many times before. There wasn't any point in getting embarrassed. He was planning on assisting you in redressing and you were definitely in dire need of that assistance.

Nothing about this was strange, John had always displayed a kind nature towards you and remained attentive of your needs in any setting. There wasn't a time where he didn't handle you with the utmost care. It was times like this where he voluntarily breached his emotionless facade in your presence that further cemented the fondness you knew he had for you. Receiving proof through affection and concern was a nice touch. Something about being appreciated sat really well with you.

Strong hands grazed over your moisturized brown skin, effectively lifting you into a standing position by your waist. Your corset top would be first, he pulled it over your head until it concealed your breasts once more. Surprisingly, you didn't feel any shame about how his keen gaze lingered over your chest as he completed the action. He then kneeled down directly in front of you, face dangerously close to your womanhood as he slipped your lace panties on, dept fingers lightly brushing over your lower lips. It caused your breath to catch as he continued on. He even took the time to sit you back on the bed and put your heels on. His nice actions were causing your body to stir against your better judgement. Meanwhile, you still had trouble getting over the image of him whispering a foreign language in your ear while stroking you out.

"Thank you."

You managed to pile all of your braids into a messy bun, it wasn't how you'd regularly style it but you desperately wanted it out of your face for the time being. It was all a part of the mental preparation for the walk of shame.

His deep baritone, composed and even. "Are you ready?"

Reaching over the nightstand, you retrieved your small purse. "Yeah."

* * *

Once a person exited that lift, the establishment was quite the sight. Unlike the previous night, the lobby/reception area was filled with men and women conversing and indulging themselves with copious drinks. This gave you full confirmation that the place served the needs of its guests of its exclusive patrons. One night here would probably cost hundreds if not thousands of dollars. Those with a modest pension like you could not afford such structured accommodation. You didn't think you had the pleasure of being in such a refined hotel before and it made you ponder just how loaded John was to be able to afford it for a few nights. From what you'd gathered so far, John was a very well-respected man. Most men and women made sure to acknowledge him in a respectful manner, almost as if they were honoring him in the best possible way with a short greeting.

In spite of this, the people still regarded you with a puzzling expression. Obviously, your paramour did not walk a woman through the hotel lobby often. John ignored the attention, merely keeping a hand at the small of your back as he guided you through the large space full of curious people.

Instead of heading straight for the door, John leads you to a chair near the concierge's desk mostly isolated from the other patrons and urges you to take a seat. "I'll be back. Stay right now."

Noting the seriousness in his voice that booked no argument, you simply nodded, not even asking where he was going. The hitman lingered a minute longer to give you a pacifying glance before he swept past, moving to speak to the concierge about something quietly. John then disappeared from sight, where he was going you had no idea.

Sitting in the chair, you listened to the general chatter of the huge room while waiting for the man to return. Luckily, you didn't get easily bored and managed to distract yourself by watching people go about their business. For a while, you managed to resist the urge to stay in your seat but you knew that could only last so long. After five more minutes, you make the executive decision against John's instructions to wander with the exception of not touching anything.

Glancing up, you noticed that the building had a beautiful ceiling that was illuminating a royal blue with designs that were like something out of the 15th chapel. The whole place was big enough to have not one but two lobbies, a lounge seating area, and a few nooks. Simply walking around, you'd attracted quite a few eyes. This of course wasn't that surprising as you were certainly out of place here. Last night's attire surely didn't make it any better. You'd without a doubt given the wealthy elite an eye full.

"Excuse me Miss, may I assist you in any way?"

The voice shouldn't have started you that much to the point of jumping.

The polite, concierge asked the question with a poised accent. He was a tall black man who wore glasses standing behind the lobby desk.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh no, thank you. I'm just waiting for a friend."

"As you wish. I am here at your leisure should you require anything."

"Okay."

"I must say, that must have been quite the interesting game last night."

Your face heated at the veiled statement despite trying not to make it obvious that you'd gotten screwed within an inch of our life last night. You refused to look the man in the face, too afraid that your eyes would give everything away.

"Umm, yeah it was." You utterly lowly.

The man said nothing else, possibly sensing your embarrassment and not wanting to add to it any further. You were grateful for this.

Having learned your lesson, you moved to retake your seat, deciding that you would remain there until John made a reappearance. Shortly after, John came back, the two of you began to make the journey to the elaborate double door entrance.

A trek that should have been short was soon intercepted by a woman stepping in between you both and the exit. Her attire was mostly black in color, a decently sized fur coat over her shoulders, with black boots. dark shoulder length hair, and overused eyeliner.

"John."

John inclined his head in greeting. "Perkins."

"I haven't seen much of you lately."

"Back from Munich so soon?"

The way she casually walked up to John demonstrated familiarity. If you had to guess, the woman had to be one of his colleagues. This couldn't have been an issue seeing as John was always polite and cordial to others. This woman's attitude was bothering you. Not the fact that she herself was bothered by you. This woman obviously had some conniving ass ways. She excluded such an arrogance and bitterness about her that immediately made you put your hackles up.

She smoothly removed her black gloves from her pale hands that looked like they felt cold to the touch. Black nail polish graced every single finger nail. Geez, was she goth or did she just have an obsession with the color black?

She was standing entirely too close to him, smiling and staring intently into his face. The very sight irked you a good deal. Making teasing remarks and placing a hand on his suit jacket. It gave you the sickening suspicion that the woman held some sort of interest in John other than being just colleagues. The superficial politeness was not fooling anyone, least of all you. You shifted, warily watching the pair interact.

Evidently, John and this woman had dealings but you didn't know how far those dealings extended. You'd already put money on it that she probably did the same kind of work as John. Regardless of whether you liked it or not, these two had history together and that was enough to warrant some kind of scrunity. Having gained all this information, you found that you didn't know what to do with all of it. In spite of the fact that, it made you a bit more curious about his past.

The biggest issue for you was that she spoke as if you were not standing there next to him. In view of this, it made it extremely awkward to take the dismissal of your person in stride.

Her goal seemed mainly to hold a conversation with and smile buoyantly at your male companion, all the while ignoring your existence. You noticed that John did not reciprocate the woman's blanant flirtatious attempts. Almost nothing could break through his stone cold demeanor that easily. No matter how one tried to flip it, her actions were rude in your eyes. Moreover, it really seemed like she was making an effort to flirt with him directly in front of you. And if you summed it up in one word perfectly, it would have to be childish. Completely and utterly childish. And you didn't play those types of games.

In a bold move, you cleared your throat loudly. The sound drawing attention from the seemingly one-sided conversation and unto you. You purposely cut her off whilst she was speaking and she cut her eyes venomously at you for a brief second. A faux smile then replaced the look.

"Oh...I almost didn't notice you there." It was then her eyes cut back to John. "Friend of yours?"

Okay, being a bitch was something she clearly liked. It was crazy because it didn't take much to be a decent person to others. You couldn't stand people that had the nerve to display assertiveness and uppity behavior all at once.

"Yes...I'm a friend of his." You answered swiftly before John, tone displaying as much fakeness as a two dollar bill.

"Oh okay. You know that's a nice skirt. I mean, not everyone can pull it off."

You expected her to say something like, "But it looks nice on you." And yet no comment of the sort left her mouth. It was such a backhanded comment. Almost like she was sneak dissing. Catching a glimpse of her lip quirking at the corner, served to enrage you further.

The hand that was at your lower back moved to wrap securely around your waist, if you had to guess, it was to keep you from attacking the provoking woman.

The nerve of her while she was standing here looking like a wicked ass witch in all black. What someone else thought about you wasn't your main concern, nor was it any of your business. But you couldn't ignore your temper being ignited. You had no problem letting the woman know that you got active. You needed to get away from the insufferable bitch before you drug her ass clean across the lobby floor.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again John."

John inclined his head, a clear favored action of his. "Perkins."

The woman then slid past you both, fur coat nearly brushing your shoulder on the way. A muscle in your jaw clenched as John resumed moving you out of the doors to the outside.

* * *

It was so eerily quiet in the car besides the loud hum of the engine. By this point, you'd give your left lung for him to turn on the radio and engulf the space with some other sound. Quietly staring out the window at the passing surroundings was all you cared to do at the moment. Well, that and occasionally scrolling down your Twitter feed. You were sitting there quietly bristling in the passenger seat of the rumbling vehicle trying to come up with a reason to be angry with him. For all your wasted effort, you could find none. During the exchange, John had only displayed his usual countenance of stoicism. The two of you were not together, so why were you getting in your feelings about it? You could not expect anything from men whom you don't have a commitment with. And you feel that you were a confident enough woman to separate your emotions.

Becoming too emotionally invested could cause major problems from both ends. Although that whole encounter really rubbed you the wrong way. And you weren't the type to be jealous of another woman either. You didn't feel threatened per say but you did feel like you might be a threat to someone else. As things currently stood, you weren't sure if John held the same deep emotional connection as you did with him. So now you were in a sort of grey area, unsure of what to say or what to do. You didn't want confusion to be a regular occurrence when it came to John.

When the car pulled up to your apartment building, John took the key out from the ignition, bathing the car in silence.

"Do you still have to work?"

"Yeah."

"When will I see you again?"

"When I'm done."

Naturally, John still had business to take care of, meaning his schedule was too occupied for you to be around at the moment. He could be gone for days or weeks, it all depended on the work you guessed.

Unconsciously, your lip curled in, an action that happened when you were severely upset or disappointed. The expression didn't evade John's keen eyes, since being capable of reading people was undoubtedly an aspect of the lethal work he did.

Pulling on the door handle, you hurriedly left the car. John with a quickness that almost scared you, exited the car and rounded the vehicle before you could jog up the stairs. His experienced hands grasped a hold of your arms as John stared down at you. "Is there something wrong?"

Though your body language was dead giveaway and highly questionable. It was easy to sense the weariness. He had no right to wonder why you were feeling how you were currently. "I'm okay."

Sharp brown eyes hardened at the proclamation. "A lie."

It was a lie. A lie you knew he'd easily decipher. How could you forget - he was totally capable of reading you and your emotions. The notion left you slightly more irritated than surprised.

There was crushing tension in the air now, and you avoided looking at him even after he posed the question.

You tried hard not to falter under the normally calming gaze of his deep brown orbs, consoling you in their own silent way. Once again, reinforcing that profound, unspoken understanding between both of you.

Even more so, you made an attempt to turn away from his handsome face.

Regardless of how bad you wanted to, you decided not to voice your acute discontent. Too afraid of having to voice the issue out of fear of how it would be perceived. John was not the type of man that one threw heated accusations at and unleashed desperate emotions. Instead, you opted to shake your head in a firm 'no' to avoid bringing the topic to the forefront.

"Can you wait patiently until I return? Can you do that for me?"

The hand holding your face seemed like such a harmless gesture but it was more than enough to send heat flooding straight into your belly. Your heart was pounding like a bass drum the longer you stared. His actions filled your chest with a habitial warmth you'd grown accustomed to feeling with him, which was quite often. Despite his outwardly cold exterior to others, John possessed many qualities that made you melt. Even with his steely gaze trained on you.

He leaned in to place a kiss on the left side of your mouth and you froze up at the action. He'd never done that before. Not giving you a proper kiss. Your heart sank at the realization. Though you could be overreacting. Maybe the experienced assassin had considered that you probably wouldn't be open to kissing since you had yet to brush your teeth. That seemed to be a logical explanation. But nevertheless, a pang of hurt throbbed inside your chest and you couldn't dismiss it. Realistically speaking, you weren't even supposed to be feeling such nauseating emotions.

Against your judgement, you still found yourself nodding.

The intensity of his gaze always cut through you like glass and maintaining it was difficult. The look made you feel nervous, anxious, and fidgety all at once.

Utterly upset with yourself now, you leaned off the car moving to hurriedly slip past him and venture up the stairs towards the apartment building's entrance without looking back.

* * *

You sighed as you leaned back against your apartment door. The scent of sandalwood evaded your nose, producing a calming effect. It felt good to be in the comfort of your own house.

You definitely needed a nice hot soak in your tub to ease some of the soreness you still felt from last night. The soak would also provide a clear mind for you. Plus you did some of your best thinking in the bathtub. Venturing straight into the bathroom, you turn on the taps and started your normal morning routine even though it was just now touching eleven. Afterwards a bath had been drawn and you added a few bath bombs from Bath and Body works before slipping into the water. Sighing as the water alleviated both your muscles and your mood.

Only after allowing yourself to relax did you truly let your mind wander on both today's and last night's events. You'd learned from some women that a woman will be naturally submissive to a man that they trust to lead. It didn't get much safer than in his arms. John Wick was a fundamentally good man (given that no one had a quarrel with him) in your eyes and no one's opinion could ever change that. What man could be so amicable despite killing people for a living.

The impersonal kiss only made you assume the worst. Any other time, he'd be spot on about the hygiene issue but after that interaction with the 'Perkins' woman, you'd surely appreciate a firm kiss on the lips if only for reassurance. Perhaps she was a past girlfriend he was still dealing with on the regular. You really didn't have much to go on. Flirting can look different for many people. There were different levels that ranged between innocent and inappropriate. You and John were not dating and of course he was appealing to other women. Who's to say you were acting ridiculous?

You really shouldn't be getting so worked up over something so trivial but you couldn't help it. What could you do? Withdraw from him altogether? This man had gone out of his way to kill people for you, there was no way in hell the man would accept that in stride.

The man certainly didn't fuck you like a regular hookup so it was hard not to be conflicted over the contact killer. It wasn't good to rely on a man for your happiness, you knew that from the jump. It was much too risky. On the other hand, you had to come to terms with knowing that there were moments where you felt intensely possessive of him. You craved his time and attention. When it came to him, he had the power to make you lose all rational thought.

Staunchly reminding yourself of that formal peck you'd received left an unfamiliar emotion bubbling in your chest, giving birth to more worrisome thoughts. And you were the type to cry when seriously angered. But why did you wish to feel so enraged? Was it a normal human response? No matter what it was, the worries wouldn't wither away so easily.

You just didn't find it logical to overreact about him exchanging pleasantries with another woman regardless of the circumstance. Maybe your pride was just hurt - hurt that other women might be receiving the same attention as you. Realistically speaking, everyone liked to think they were special in someone's eyes. Your someone being John.

Still, you refused to let the situation gnaw at you for an extended period of time. The last time you wanted to do was make a problem out of something that in actuality might not be a problem. To top it all off, you had a tendency to overthink things to the point where it had the power to make or break your entire day. And you weren't the type to ignore something because it made you uncomfortable. You had to grasp a hold of your incoherent thoughts somehow. There were other important things to worry about. You could this little hiccup take priority.

You took your time washing up before you ultimately left the tub. You changed into a shirt and comfortable sweatpants.

You witnessed him shoot a man through the head last night. You'd think any sane person would be bothered but you couldn't conjure up any feelings of sympathy. That man meant to do you harm. Though it did lead you to another set of unanswered questions like - how was he able to find you at the club?

What was up with the vibe of that hotel? How many assassins were there in New York? Could there possibly be a community of potential hitmen?

You had faith that God would safely take you out of a situation you had no business being in.

That wasn't the point. The two of you were from different worlds. And as different as you both may be, there were many common threads that kept you both tied together. The abundance of trust and reliance were evidence of that. With John your feminue energy flowed nicely. You didn't have to have any defenses up; didn't have to have any masculine energy because he had it all. All you could do was be a woman. Be you.

Everytime you get agitated you consider unplugging from all social media. Usually because you start to realize how draining interacting with people truly is. At this juncture, you weren't sure about interacting with people for the next couple of weeks, or months. On occasion, it helps you come back to yourself after a long week or event depresses you. You thought about sitting in front of the TV for the remainder of the day but that was more of a Sunday kind of thing instead of Saturday. There was a can of chicken noodle soup in your cabinet that sounded absolutely appetizing.

You would usually do a deep cleaning or cook a meal as a form of personal therapy. It was insane how doing what's best for you could feel so wrong because you're used to considering everyone else's feelings. It seriously left you with some legitimate concerns, you didn't want to end up in a self sabotaging situation. Regardless, you needed to get rid of the depressing vibe.

Luckily, you were able to call your friends over to keep you company for a while so you wouldn't feel lonely. They were too happy to oblige and even brought one of your college friends named Tre. Tre, humorously nicknamed, 'Trey Songz', was someone whom the three of you had met during freshman year and had been friends ever since. You generally liked when Tre came around because he was just so likable and funny even in the worst situation. He also was the one who offered advice on how men typically worked.

Everyone had piled in your bedroom like always and the chill session began.

"Tre, I thought I saw you with Jeremy." Jasmine remarked, her brows clenched together in confusion.

"You did. He went to his old lady house."

"Oh. Well what about you and Cece? Y'all still not talking?"

"Nope. Fuck her."

"Don't say that. You know y'all will be back talking by tomorrow."

"But we not though."

"Y'all get mad at each other over the stupidest stuff. Over some fishnets...really?"

"See...you all in my business and don't know what you talking about."

"That's what she told me trick!"

"She lied."

Alexis rolled her eyes. "It doesn't even matter cause y'all will be right back together. Mark my words."

Jasmine nodded in agreement. "Tre y'all need to get like Jeremy and Cece."

"Girl, please. Jeremy is pussywhipped. He do everything that girl asks him to."

"Good. That's what you need."

Tre immediately stopped rolling the weed, turning to give Jasmine a look. "Who? I'll be damned."

You screeched loudly watching the banter between your friends. They never failed to provide you with a good laugh.

"So Tre, what does it mean if you're messing around with a guy and he gives you money."

"Honestly, it depends. It could mean two things. One, he really likes you. Or two, you probably just a lil hoe to him. You know, do some strange for a little piece of change."

Alexis shifted her neck in your direction, a shit-eating grin on her face. "I'm just asking for a friend…"

You wordlessly mouthed, "Imma beat yo ass." to her while clenching your teeth. Sadly, Tre just so happened to look up and see your face.

"I know she's asking for you. I heard you got a little boo." He teased.

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, shifting to cross your legs on the bed. "First off, he's not my boo. And where you hear that from?"

He shrugged. "You know the streets talk."

At that statement, you looked right over at your friends - aka 'The Streets.' This was one of those times where you wanted to look into an imaginary camera like you were on an episode of The Office.

"He's just somebody I been talking to for a little minute." Talking being code for fucking.

"So he got money?"

"I mean...he's not wanting for nothing that's for damn sure."

"Ask her how much he gave her last time." Alexis urged, unable to contain the messiness that had been building for over a week. Telling Tre was just the icing on the cake.

All eyes turned to you in that moment, expecting an answer worthy of astonishment.

You rather not talk about John right now but at the entertainment of your messy ass friends you decided to indulge this one time.

"He left a thousand on my nightstand yesterday morning."

Tre nearly jumped from his seat. "A thousand?! Damn, what kinda job does he have to be handing out a thousand dollars?"

"I don't know about all that. That's not my business to tell."

"If I can tell y'all about all the details of my sex life then you can tell me what yo man do."

You felt it necessary to lie to them. There wasn't any way you could tell them that John dispatched people for money. It shouldn't have been that surprising though. Half the girls that live in the southside had drug dealer boyfriends that either attempted to kill someone or already have.

"Aint nobody told you to tell us that! You do that on your own!" Jasmine piped up.

"Look I can't tell you what the man does because I'm not too sure myself. If you happen to meet him, then you can ask yourself but you probably won't so…" You shrugged.

"Whatever."

"Oh yeah, did y'all hear that someone got shot at the club we were at last night?"

The question struck a thread of anxiety in your gut that you quickly pushed down in order to feign ignorance. There wasn't any doubt that your friends would side with you if they knew the full details, but at this point, you didn't want to chance it. Your main thought was to protect John at all costs.

"No, I didn't know that." You lied.

"Yep, someone shot him point blank in the head. Some girl found him in the bathroom."

Tre made a disapproving sound. "Shot that boy five times went to juvenile."

You let out a scream so loud you briefly wondered if the neighbors thought you were being murdered. That video with the little boy saying that was so funny that you'd rewatched it at least ten times. Hearing it come from Tre's mouth in such an amused matter made it five times more hilarious. You were grateful for their presence as you definitely needed a laugh right now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: When You're Gone**

**A/N: I'm back. Sorry this chapter would've gotten out a lot sooner if I wasn't sick as a dog for two weeks straight. The way I was feeling, y'all there's no way I didn't catch the rona. I'm feeling much better so I'll be giving this fic a rest for a minute and working on the others. I feel like I've been neglecting them. **

* * *

Coincidentally, your friends stayed over til about eleven after watching a few movies and getting their fill of hilarious conversation. Alexis and Tre playfully bickered the whole time damn near on account of Alexis wanting to put everything on Snapchat. As they walked out of the door, Tre yelled out a clear-cut, "Imma burn one for you!" after learning of your social media break due to you refusing to look at your phone for hours.

It was about time to look for a new job or at least something to keep you busy. Merely sitting at home doing nothing was not going to cut it. You needed to find something to preoccupy your time in a productive manner you thought as you laid in your bed with the sheets up to your neck watching Shameless with the AC on full blast. Lamentably, your mind was all over the place with haphazard thoughts. Regardless of your emotional state, you absolutely refused to play Drake's 'Marvin's Room' or your favored tracks on The Weeknd's 'Trilogy' album you knew you couldn't resist listening to anyway.

First and foremost, you were a little angry at him because he didn't check the disrespect coming from his colleague in the first place. Despite having tough skin, or so you liked to think, your feelings were still easily hurt by certain things and certain people. Even if she apologized, you couldn't see the two of you becoming friends in the near future. Annoyingly, you head constantly replayed Cardi B's infamous moniker of "If a girl have beef with me, she gon have beef with me...foreva."

Nonetheless, you were still plagued by the question of "Was it uncalled for to feel this way under the circumstances?" Summarizing that you were too deep in your feelings about it for it to truly go away so soon. And it would have to be addressed sooner or later. It was only a matter of when. Frankly, you wouldn't be happy until you both were standing eye to eye.

Perhaps a trip to your parents house tomorrow would do you so good.

You reached over to retrieve your phone charging on the nightstand. Face ID instantly granted you access into the locked phone. There was an unread message from an unsaved number sent around two hours ago. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew it was him. Honestly, it was nothing to admit that you anticipated any contact from him. Be it text, call, or physical appearance. Entertaining the thought of only responding using emojis or gifs but you were much too tired to act immature.

"_Are you well?"_

A quick reply was typed. "_Yes." _

You expected a text back in somewhere between one and two hours, thinking that perhaps he was busy or just wasn't near his phone at the moment. What you didn't expect, however, was for him to Facetime you almost immediately after. With the phone vibrating in your hands, you still hesitated to answer even with the man you longed for on the other end of it. Rearranging the pillows behind you, you moved into a sitting position then took a deep breath. The green button was pressed a half a second later.

Perhaps he was lying down in darkness or something.

"Are you coming back today?"

"Afraid not."

You were not an expectant wife awaiting her husband's return but the disappointment in your chest couldn't be quelled. "Why not."

"Loose ends."

"That's unfortunate. Are you in New York at least?"

"Overseas."

Rolling your eyes none too subtly, you fell back into the pillows with a pout. Him not being in New York was the equivalent of waking up and seeing that Apple Music took money from your account. There was no telling when he'd been back now. You'd hadn't the faintest clue where he was and he didn't seem inclined to tell you. "What's overseas?"

"A target."

"Is it really that important?"

"Yes."

"Who's the target?"

"I can't divulge such information." As much as you wanted to be angry, you couldn't. The man had a job to do and he'd been doing it long before he met you. Whether a few days turned into a week or weeks - you had no power to change anything.

"Oh well. Hopefully, everything is going well."

A light switch went off in your brain, you had an idea.

"I guess I'll have to find someone else to keep me company. You know, with you being gone and all." Teasing him and challenging his authority was so fun. He couldn't tell you what to do, especially if he was in another country with his dick. Did he expect you not to be defiant while he was gone? It was likely so.

"That's unwise I assure you."

The man was surely giving you a hard stare that bespoke of his displeasure with your choice of words.

"Is it though? I'm here all by myself." Unconsciously, one of your hands slid into your tank top over your left breast. The action wasn't a sexual one, it was a habit picked up solely for comfort.

The other end of the phone was deadly silent, not a single sound could be heard. You knew you'd got a rise out of him.

"Let me see." His voice sounded lower, predatory and fully indicative of a man of self-control that knew what he wanted.

Even more, astonishing was his request - to say you were shocked was an understatement. You wished you could see his face, some description of a reaction would be helpful to know just what you were dealing with.

This was intimate and personal - as far as interacting with another person behind a screen. He'd given you a sexual request that he wanted fulfilled. It was a means for him to sate hidden desire while he was away. You would never expect something like this from him. The assassin was asking you to show your tits over the call. You weren't a cam girl. It was exceedingly hard to be sexy and keep the phone at a good angle. To keep the phone steady.

Overall, you didn't feel like he was pushing you out of your comfort zone. You slowly stripped away off your top, baring your breasts to the room and John's expectant sight. You supposed it wasn't that hard to execute since you weren't able to see his face while you did so. His appreciation helped boost your self-esteem and confidence. The feeling of seeking validation from a man was something you vowed to to never let yourself experience even under the threat of death.

* * *

Your parents house was located in a nice little neighborhood across town with little to no crime. Besides the 'Williams' who lived next door, they were the only black residents that occupied the neighborhood. The house had been the source of the family get together's ever since. Something your father had a love/hate relationship with seeing as he loved to host family events but wouldn't tolerate kids running through his house.

"Mama!" You called out.

"We're in the living room!"

After closing the door, you stepped into the archway that led towards the living room. Although you really liked the aesthetic, you still felt as if you weren't all the way familiar with the house seeing as they moved into it just two months shy of you going off to college. In spite of this, you still had a room set up for you should you decide to move back home or stay there for a few days. All courtesy of your father, who really hated the fact that you decided to go out and get an apartment in the first place. Not only were you his only child but you were a woman. He constantly worried for your safety. What parent wouldn't be? The shootout at the bar had mortified your parents to the point where they didn't even want you to get another job.

Sadly, it couldn't be helped. You moved into your apartment because you desperately needed your own space. It was nothing like having your own. Though you hated to admit it, sometimes your folks drove you crazy. After high school, you quickly came to the conclusion that paying rent every month was worthwhile than staying at home.

Your mother had Sunday dinner cooking on the stove while she sat in the front room with your aunt Denise sipping at a mug that was no doubt filled with coffee. The kitchen emitted a wonderful smell throughout the house that you would never tire of.

Once you came into view, your mother sat her coffee mug down on the table. "Well hello there stranger."

"Hey, my dusty mae!" You smiled fondly at the nickname your aunt had given you at three years old after you'd ruined a new dress your parents had bought by rolling in the dirt outside. Your mother was absolutely pissed about the incident and it still got brought up today. Regardless, you hugged both of the women.

"Hey auntie."

Delight flashed across her features. "Girl, I haven't seen you in so long. Where you been?" Aunt Denise asked, holding your hands in that kind manner she always did.

You shrugged. "School. Work. Those kids of things."

She inclined her head playfully. "Is that so? You ain't got no boyfriend do ya?"

The question gave you full pause. There was a lot of thinking about but then again, it really wasn't. Still, you didn't mean to hesitate with your answer.

Aunt Denise perked up. "Oop. You hesitated to answer."

"But I really don't have a boyfriend."

"Mmmhhh. Just remember, pound town is fun until you end up with a little pound cake in the oven. Ask your mother."

You made a face.

"Hey now!" You mother interjected.

"Your mother used to get on my last nerves talking about your father. Sneaking out the house when they were young and forcing me to be a lookout."

Your mother paused to retrieve and blew on her steaming coffee. "Don't get mad about something you volunteered to do."

You shook your head, trying not to smile at the scene unfolding in front of you. As sisters, the pair would argue about anything and it was the most amusing thing ever. It was always funny no matter what the subject was about. You actually attributed it to how you learned how to argue.

"I hear Marvin's daughter is pregnant again, you know she doesn't mind bringing them a grandchild home." Your aunt remarked.

Aunt Denise was your favorite primarily because she was the boujee aunt with no kids that always gave you money since you were a child. She was full of womanly wisdom and you could talk to her about virtually anything. Plus, she always supplied you and your mother with all the tea and family gossip.

"Well once my daughter brings home that degree, then she can bring me a grandchild." Your mother answered.

Your cheeks burned at the conversation topic, especially since you knew things that they didn't. For all your heady efforts, you and John would have about five buns in the oven by now if your birth control was any less effective.

_Okay, you'd heard enough of this conversation._ "Where's daddy?"

"He's out picking up something from the store. Been gone so long I don't even remember what I sent him out to get."

You snickered at this. Your father could be in his casket at his own funeral and would get up and leave if your mother asked him to. You were slightly surprised that your father wasn't barbecuing since he would literally use any excuse to get on the grill. Excusing yourself from the living, you made your way towards the kitchen.

Nearly jumping when your mother yelled from the living room, "Don't go in that kitchen messing with that food either!"

You bypassed the living room and started randomly rambling in every room you came across. Every time you came home you made it a mission to steal some household items ranging from food to cleaning supplies. Hopefully, you didn't get caught sneaking them out when it was time to leave.

You had half a mind to invite your friends to help but Jasmine was out of town with her mother and Alexis had to work a twelve hour shift at the shop today. Honestly, you felt for her. You knew what it was like to have a horrible boss and Alexis loved working at the boutique where she indeed had a shitty boss. With him and Alexis, there was always that atmosphere of tension and distrust. Who could work in such a tenuous and noxious environment. He tended to look over her talents and accomplishments. Not to mention, that she was one of the most valued and hardworking employees. Most customers, new and regular, favored her.

You were bothered by the fact that your time without him wasn't going by as smoothly as you'd hoped. More disturbed by the fact that you weren't able to push him out of your mind at least for a little while. The man occupied your thoughts more often than not. John Wick has surely left his mark on you in more ways than one. You missed everything about him, from the scent of his cologne to the feel of his hands on you. You didn't even question how he'd gotten your contact information and you were loath to admit that you actually approved of the crafty behavior.

The sun would be descending soon and you wanted to be back at your apartment by then.

* * *

It's rather late now, past eight, the sky was tinged with darkness, clouds hovering aimlessly. You'd managed to get all your stolen goods home and with nothing else to do, you decided to partake in a deep cleaning of your apartment. You started with the kitchen first, working your way to the bathroom, your bedroom, and lastly putting away freshly washed laundry. You were basically running on autopilot, blasting music as you did so.

Once you made it back to your apartment complex, the sight of your distracted landlord inconveniencing another woman only prompted you to sneak past without being noticed. As you were certain he'd been awaiting your return.

From the first time you met him, you just got a feeling in the pit of your stomach. And it wasn't like you to ignore your gut feeling when it came to anything. First impressions can adversely affect a person's perception of you. For starters, his accent always put you on edge for some reason, that and his intense green eyes that often leered at you for long periods of time. It made you not want to meet his gaze at all. At one point, you were sure he'd memorized your work schedule. Plus there were multiple failed attempts to get your phone number, seeing as how you only wanted to be contacted or informed by email pertaining to any housing issue.

Renting is more convenient and affordable for a student like yourself. Paying rent meant not being responsible for repairs and having freedom from a lease the minute it was over. You couldn't for the life of you understand why your monthly rent just couldn't be dropped off by the front office. Why did he have to make an effort of coming by your flat to collect the payment. At the threat of harassment, you'd learned to limit all conversation and keep contact at an absolute minimum. You knew it was only a matter of time before he propositioned you. He had by one time to fuck up and you would sue the shit outta him.

Regardless of what the man thought, you were not vulnerable, be it socially or culturally.

A distinctive rapt on the door broke the peacefulness of the apartment and sounded over the music. Pressing the pause button, you made a slow beefline to the door, undoing all three locks. Turning the knob you opened the door to a welcome sight.

A strong, bearded jaw came into your line of vision. Lips were fixed into a straight line, piercing brown eyes trained directly on you as you stood like a scared rabbit caught in headlights. One thing that stood out was that his body was not clad in a tailored suit this time. Instead John wore a brown leather jacket, white shirt, denim jeans, and black boots to compliment his appearance. A stark contrast from his normal three piece suit. Aside from the actuality that you'd never seen him dress so casually, you had to admit that it rather suited him. No pun intended.

God, the nerve of you to want to joke at a time like this. You blamed it on bouts of socially awkwardness seeming from middle school.

Your heart was beating so fast you feared it might stop before long. Truth be told, you weren't expecting him back so soon. Figuring that when he came back he still might be a few days away from you. Yet, here he was, standing at your door. Images of what occurred last night flicked across your subconscious and that initial embarrassment came rushing back. You felt so frazzled and your appearance luckily didn't match how you felt at the moment. You felt a small amount of relief at that.

Shaking it off, you half-halfheartedly levelled him with the fakest hard stare before turning to allow him entrance into the apartment.

You had indeed lied to him about whether or not something was bothering you. Stubbornness preventing you from voicing your mind like you truly wanted to. Honestly, you should've known better, John paid attention to every little detail. Seriously, you could've just told him that you were feeling some kind of way from the beginning but no, you had to be dramatic and throw a tantrum.

Where was your sense of self-preservation?

A dark brow rose.

Attention shifted to an elaborately made package with a bow in his left hand.

"We need to have a talk about honesty." His tone made you inadvertently shiver. The man could make the simplest words sound sultry.

"Okay. Let's talk then."

"The day I left, I asked you if there was something on your mind. You were not honest with me."

"Yeah, so…" You nonchalantly proclaimed, folding your arms against your chest defensively.

John stepped closer until he was standing directly in front of you, with the height difference practically towering over you."If there is an issue, I want to be the first to know about it."

You faltered, visibly taken aback by his words. His serious nature and emotional stability on full display at this particular point in time. His sense of morality raising above his quiet introverted side. With the likeness of a scolded child, you turned your eyes away, choosing not to look at him.

"You must never lie to me. Never keep secrets from me. No omissions."

The world like it had withered away in that moment. Your heart pounded loudly as you listened to him. John brought his lethal fingers under your chin, prompting your eyes to meet his once more. "Do you understand?"

There was a brief period of silence, mainly because you needed time to pick your mouth off of the floor.

You could help but get the feel that he was an extraordinary man with extraordinary talents who just wanted to have a normal life. On top of that, he was a no nonsense type of person. A man of few words, full of action. There were a number of things he could do to reassure you. For example, shooting Perkins in the face could be one.

"Let's try this again shall we?"

Consequently, you left your brow twitch but you couldn't deny him the truth any longer. "I don't like your friend. Perkins."

A knowing expression etched itself onto his features.

"I'm aware."

Naturally, you had expected him to dismiss the event as inconsequential. It was such a typical male response and yet, you didn't expect anything else.

"Oh really? I didn't think you could tell with her hands rubbing all over your chest." You answered in a snarky manner.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you." His tone was no less neutral than when the conversation first started.

"I'm not jealous."

Men like him could be intimidating. His stare was penetrating, when he looked at you it was like he could see into the depths of your soul. You fought the urge to shiver as he brought up one to gently caress the side of your face.

"Perkins is a colleague. Nothing more."

"Whatever, I'm still mad at you." You made sure not to sound convinced on purpose. "What's in the bag."

John followed your gaze towards the bag sitting on your counter, he then moved to pick it up.

"Belgium Chocolate Chip Cookies." He noticed how your eyes lit up, the man was fully aware of your obsession with the baked sweets. "I made arrangements to get them since I knew you would like them. However, if you don't want then I'll..."

He was not surprised when you practically snatched the sweet confections out of his hands. Glaring at him for even suggesting that you didn't want the treats. "Still angry?"

"You're forgiven...for now."

Once you sat the cookies in your kitchen, John's mouth latched onto yours possessively, swallowing down the oxygen from your throat greedily. The kiss was full of entitlement. Everything about you belongs to him now.

Solid arms wrapped around your waist as you both stumbled towards the couch. You were soon lifted to straddle John's hips on the couch, legs pressed up against the sinewy muscle of his hip bone. Hunger flashed across his eyes the longer he stared into your face.

The union was so unexpected and surreal that you still had trouble believing that the two of you had even crossed paths. The level of connection was growing deeper and deeper everyday. John was quite the extraordinary man in those respects.

A loud knock at the door halted any further actions from taking place. The unexpected interruption forced you to pull your lips from John's in a haste. You had no idea who it could be knocking at your door this late but you had a hunch. Untangling your limbs from around the man, you briskly ventured to the door to a most unwelcome guest. Your unorthodox landlord stood eager and all too ecstatic to see you, having finally figured out that you were home. How he found that out, you couldn't begin to fathom. Somebody had to tell him because you were sure you'd successfully sneaked past him earlier.

"Hey there_. I'm here to collect the rent." His smile was no less creepy as he leveled it unto you.

You were no less uncomfortable as you stood in shorts that could definitely pass as underwear on a decent day. Without reciprocating his smile, you moved to recover your wallet from your purse across the room. Despite this, you could practically feel the sleazy man's gaze on your backside and no amount of trying to ignore it would take away how disturbed it made you.

"I like how you've decorated the place. Really adds a layer of individuality. I like that in my tenants."

You only answered a low "Hmm." to his totally eerie comment as you rifled through your purse.

A pair of comforting arms wrapped themselves around your waist and you panicked for a second before the smell of John registered in your brain. You cursed inwardly as you'd completely forgotten he was there. The hardness of his chest against your back calmed down a great deal. He was grounding method, a reminder that he was still there. That he would protect you from any and all. Heart giving a discernible thump at this.

Without further delay, you turned to John's arms, moving back towards the open front door where the obnoxious still stood, slightly bothered by the other man following closely behind you. You didn't like the way the man looked at you and apparently, John wasn't too fond of it either.

You were quick to hand the disgruntled man the money and shut the door before any further interaction could be made. A sigh of relief was breathed afterwards.

Lips skimming over your neck resulting in pleasant tingles all over. Pretty soon, you were swept off your feet and virtually carried to your bedroom and deposited softly on the bed. During the short journey, you'd gotten a whiff of his cologne and male musk, it left you intoxicated and burning with desire. Exploring hands caressed your chest ever so gently, kneading t-shirt covered breasts. John knew all about your erogenous zones, your chest being one of those.

He began trailing a line of kisses on your upper and lower lip respectively, giving a little nibble here and there. You hesitantly opened your mouth allowing him full access and he reclaimed your lips with a renewed passion. As expected, his tongue plundered yours almost immediately. The kisses were sensuous, wet, and all-consuming. The man was a seasoned kisser.

It didn't take long for your shirt to be lifted off your frame and your multicolored bra soon followed. Your right nipple ended up in his mouth while his left hand massaged the other.

Hands traced the curve of your back before moving downward to firmly cup your ass. As he massaged your buttocks, a tingling began in the pit of your abdomen. He appreciated your womanly curves, fingers traveling up and down your sides. Much attention had been drawn to your figure-hugging sleeping shorts.

"Up." His voice was smooth and rich, while his appendages moved to help you assume the position he wanted.

"Arch."

The one word commands caused an internal ache within your pussy. When he spoke, you listened.

You didn't really know what to expect being placed in this position, your cheek pressing into a pillow. His brow was creased in concentration as he stared at your ass. A thumb slides over your core through your shorts. The exploring thumb pressed harder, parting your lower lips without much effort, rubbing the aching mound with slow strokes. His actions left you even wetter.

Skillful digits hooked into your shorts expertly capturing your panties, then dragged both fabrics over your hips to pool on the floor.

The view from his angle, no doubt provided an obscene sight. Your blossomed hued anus was upturned to his gaze. To put it mildly, there was significant embarrassment on your part, just not enough where you were uncomfortable. In all fairness, you really like what he was doing to you in a confused sort of way. Stroking the inside of your thighs. Nipping and sucking on the flesh on the back of your thighs, lathering his tongue over the soft skin almost too indulgently. Not that you didn't mind, a few hickeys here and there never hurt anyone.

In a millisecond, John descended on your exposed pink bud flattening his tongue against it before ultimately diving the appendage inside the tight circle. Your mouth flew open with a silent cry, uncontrollable emotion rising in your chest, eyes fluttered closed.

John was giving you the tongue lashing of your life, to the point where you were starting to feel lightheaded. That, and you just couldn't get over the shock of John eating your ass. Over your course of sexual activity, you never had a guy choose to do something so sinful. So depraved. His ministrations left your asshole soaked with glistening saliva while he ravenously worked over your bud. Before you knew it, your thighs were quivering and you let out a whimpering cry of bliss. The slow suction and occasional grazing of lips and teeth had the power to do you in.

The heat of his wet tongue swirling and dragging across your delicate flesh making you whimper softly. The muscle was expertly wiggling and curling inside your tensing pucker. With each movement, your pussy clenched sporadically. The probing was making you lose your mind. Your opening grew more soaked, juices gushing along your folds. Adding insult to injury, John was occasionally lapping at your heated core hungrily, devouring the essence.

Unable to help yourself, you pushed your hips back into his face, the wonderful pressure causing you to grind on his face. Nearly startled when two fingers slid into your warm sleeve, slowly pumping in and out. An orgasm ripped through your body at that moment, frame bowing under the ardent euphoria. Gush after gush of juices flowed from your opening and John didn't miss a beat as he slurped up every last drop, leaving juices glistening in his neatly trimmed beard.

Your eyes snapped shut, lungs attempting to pull in desperate gasps of air. John no doubt noticed this and pulled away.

The sound of a belt buckle being unfastened drew your attention as you lay heaving from over stimulation on the bed.

Uneven breath hitched in response.

Hands slid down your legs until they ended up hooked under your knees and pushed back to your chest. Your legs were soon spread apart to his erotic fascination displaying your soaked passage.

The mushroomed head made contact with your hot, dripping entrance. Positioning the head snugly against your sopping wet opening, his length sank into your shivering body in a single fluid motion, sinking in until he bottomed out. He made sure to maintain eye contact the entire time. Mouth falling open, you couldn't help sucking in a weak, shuddering breath as his heavyweight, pressed your body into the soft mattress.

John carefully gathered your braids, moving then up and over the pillow that held your head.

Alternating between long, deep strokes, his veiny shaft that damn near touched the bottom of your stomach. For a moment, you thought you might die from the sheer pleasure of it all. Sex with him was always blindingly intense, like drowning in a sea of ecstasy. Every nerve ending in your body was aware. You couldn't stop your gut from clenching. The slow pounding was guaranteed to put you to sleep right after.

Clear moisture flowing evenly from your succulent entrance as he reseated himself into your inviting depths. He was soon pounding in earnest, the strong tempo of his hips was mind-numbing. The headboard began to hit the wall with each movement. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to move. All you could do was wail brokenly while he hammered into the strangling orifice that was your pussy.

With little effort on your part, you couldn't stop your eyes from rolling back at the sensation. By your own delirious account, you thought it had to be some kind of divine intervention that kept your soul from leaving your body at that moment. He swooped down to capture a nipple in his mouth and sensation took the very breath out of you. Hands reaching out blindly, you searched for something to grab a hold of. Fingers soon entwined themselves in his dark mane, holding him closer to your chest. Your spine arched as he deliberately deepened his stroke, the angle causing the head to batter that bundle of sensitive nerves nestled in your core. The ecstasy was nearly painful. Your body was drawn tighter than a bow.

The dark haired embodiment of death hond in on your sweet spot like a true tactician, holding deep eye contact the whole time. Eyes beginning to water from the intense stimulation being induced up on your spasming body. The realization that this was why you were crazy about him was starting to set in.

John watched intently as the outline of his dick was made visible pounding the bottom of your stomach. He always had to readjust his grip tighter and amplify his ministrations when your body started to contract around his. Your entire body started shaking, releasing a tortured moan, body bathing his shaft in creamy secretions.

John was not a vocal person, even in the throws of passion but somehow you'd gotten more than a few vocalizations out of him. Being able to coax groans out of him seems like a one in a lifetime achievement. He panted as he licked up the column of your throat, breath hot against your skin. Feeling his dick pulsate when he cums inside of you is top tier.

You were coming apart at the seams.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Hating Mondays **

**A/N: I wanna start by expressing my gratitude for all the concern you guys have shown me over my health. I'm much better now. I know I said that I would give this story a break but I can't seem to stay away for long. Plus seeing all the enthusiasm for it really gives me a boost in confidence. Also, a chapter for Heat of the Moment is coming soon so stay tuned! **

* * *

Awaking from a sleepy haze, you felt light consistent breaths against your skin. A stark contrast to the temperature of the room as this air was much warmer. Practically every breath and heartbeat was perfectly in sync with one another. You felt relaxed and content with your head on a fluffy pillow with cool sheets resting on bare skin. Brows creasing in confusion, the drowsiness just beginning to recede.

John's face was buried between your breasts, the weight of his naked form pressed intimately against your overheated body despite how cool the room was because you refused to sleep in a room that was too hot. His usually styled hair was disheveled, an indication for some that he'd slept particularly well throughout the night. You like to think you and last night's activities had a lot to do with that. Interestingly enough, you never thought you would be a fan of cuddling but you also never envision a man like him would be susceptible to kissing either. His right arm was trapped under your side and his left arm was settled just over your hips.

From your awkward angle, you could see how relaxed and placid his expression was; not currently school in his normal indifference. You had to wonder if times of peace were rare for him. One wouldn't think that the noxious man whose face was currently buried in your chest could equate to being wholly responsible for regularly sending numerous people to the afterlife. And with so little feeling involved afterwards. You'd seen it with your own eyes. The way no emotion passed over his face as he swiftly dispatched people he'd been contracted to kill. Still in the midst of thinking and sifting through your emotions, you found that this man held an important place in your heart nonetheless. John Wick definitely had access into your mind and body the way that no one had. Heavily involved in a purely sexual relationship or not, the connection was cosmic.

Notably dealing with the basis of the relationship. As the relationship was still deceptively complex to offer any true understanding. And as far as your 'understanding' went you both were downright breaking all the casual sex guidelines. The prolonged proximity being a major component. This was the second time John stayed overnight and you fully regarded it as another sign of trust. Expect this time, he'd chosen not to make his exit before you awoke. It was quite the daunting experience on your part. Although you surely didn't expect to find that he was still here, wrapped comfortably around you like he was; basking in post-coital bliss the following morning. Like clockwork, anxiety strived to ruin your mood altogether. How long would this last? Another week, a month, a year perhaps? Only time would tell.

Having recognized that, it was here that you found yourself at a loss and were currently asking yourself 'now what?" a million times in your mind. Undoubtedly scrambling to figure out a solution to make things less awkward to make up for the fact that you would have no idea what to do if he suddenly woke up. You took a concentrated breath to collect your thoughts before you went about your next course of action.

To get your day started, you most definitely needed a shower. Still you were reluctant to leave your little bubble of contentment. But in spite of that it had to be done so with the carefulness of a nurse attending to a newborn, you went about gently removing yourself from John's form. In all, you spent about five minutes inching off the bed without trying to alert him and it seemed to work to your advantage. Though you were mildly surprised that he managed to stay asleep, you accredited it to your patience and the painstaking effort it took to complete the task. You did a couple of stretches to force your limbs into wakefulness, hoping to work out the kinks in the process. Glancing over his still slumbering form, you noticed a gun on the bedside table. Bizarrely, you didn't remember seeing him remove it from his person when he carried you to the bed. You did, however, know that he always had one on him. John was the epitome of 'Run up get done up.'

With that thought in mind, you crept into the bathroom as quietly as you could. With as much as you paid for rent, you'd think they'd up the water pressure as a courtesy. The water felt like gentle rain pelting your skin and the shower head wasn't to blame. The steam that bellowed into the bathroom faster than you like and sometimes it made you feel like you were suffocating. Standing under the stream of water only one thing occurred to you - Mondays were most definitely your least favorite day of the week.

The fact that the thought of cooking him breakfast was surprising enough without it having to be explored in detail. It wasn't wounding to admit that you found cooking for John quite the appealing option; deciding that it had more to do with hospitality than an affectionate gesture of fidelity. Although you might be in denial since the notion of preparing breakfast for your last boyfriend you'd had just over a year ago in college had never even crossed your mind. Usually coldly encouraging him to have a bowl of cereal when morning came. The difference was certainly astonishing. Even as you filtered through thoughts you couldn't put your finger on what that might entail - the real implications of what it could mean.

You were almost halfway towards the kitchen to prepare yourself a nice bowl of apple jacks before knocking on the door halted that idea. Your friends nearly gave you a heart attack the way they just bull rushed inside your apartment.

"Girl, why aren't you ready? I texted you that we were on the way." Jasmine shrieked.

"Now you know damn well that one the way could mean still in the bed with you."

"Well I'm here now aren't I? And she ain't ready."

"Shhhhh! Stop being so fuckin loud!"

"What's wrong with you? You actin like yo mama here or something." Alexis said, giving you a look.

"It's worse than that! He's here."

"Who?" Both girls' eyebrows went up, obviously realizing that the situation must be dire for you to react the way that you were.

"John. He's asleep in my room."

"Ohhhh. So y'all just parlaying up in here huh?"

The subtle elation at having them show up at your apartment was quickly overshadowed by the reminder that John was still fast asleep in your bed. You didn't even have time to beat your face like you wanted. You quietly bid them to go wait in the car outside since they couldn't be trusted to be silent while you rushed and got ready.

Doing a quick rummage through your closet, you ultimately settled on a form fitting brown, while, and blue romper that provided a glorious view of your backside. Not your idea of causal but but it would do for now. Plus the cute fit greatly complimented your mocha especially well, it was mainly the reason why you bought it in the first place. It would provide decent cover from the persistent wind chill that you weren't confident you could withstand wearing a dress and cardigan. The weather was veering towards hoodies and cold nights. Honestly, it was to be expected since the past summer mouths were reminiscent of hell.

In the bathroom mirror, you applied a light coat of foundation and some lashes that would serve nicely in place for your lack of time, giving you a bare face kind of look. By your own standards, you looked presentable. The summation made you think of the girls who proudly boast about only wearing lip gloss and lashes. The ones who believed that they were superior to other women because they didn't have to wear makeup as often. It was unbelievably stupid. What was the point? You'd rather for them to admit that they didn't know how to open apply makeup and move on. Besides it was nothing a good YouTube tutorial couldn't fix. You hurriedly threw your makeup products into the bag and cleaned the area around your sink.

Even after you'd showered and gotten dressed, he still hasn't moved from his original sleeping position. He must really be tired. Naturally going against conventional wisdom, you decided not to tell him that you were leaving with your friends as he would probably be stunned to find out that you were gone when he finally woke up. Instead you made a split-decision to leave your whereabouts on a blank sheet of notebook paper and an estimated time of when you'd probably be back. Adding that he could help himself to anything in the fridge should he be hungry. The note was then placed on your empty spot on the bed next to him.

* * *

There was a black-owned nails shop located just downtown called the Nail Lounge that Jasmine had been dying about visiting but wanted to wait until all three of you were available. The shop was owned by a woman who was the daughter of one of Jasmine's mother's coworkers. She was young and fresh out of cosmetology school by a few months. Of course she would wanna get the word out and bring in as much business as possible. All three of you had made a collective decision to skip classes for the days citing a self-care day. As a freshman, this would've worried you to death but now as an seasoned upperclassmen - you couldn't be bothered with perfect attendance. Fuck them classes.

Stepping inside the place, you almost instantly got a welcoming and relaxing vibe. After spending nearly ten minutes looking at the color palate, you decided on your usual white, long acrylic, coffin nails. Of all the colors, you could never go wrong with white. Jasmine decided that she only needed a fill-in of her current set while Alexis was her usual extra self and got a mani-pedi along with a top lip wax. Which would ultimately result in them being there much longer. You would mind if your technician wasn't so damn friendly and conversational. Her name was Taylor and she'd been doing nails out of her house since she was nineteen while she attended college where she met the owner of the shop. The two became good friends. It was a friendship origin story you could fully appreciate in the meantime. Though you had to clench a fist to keep from tensing up as the technician did a deep exfoliation scrub on your left foot.

A little over an hour and a half you three were walking out of the shop having left a hefty tip, Alexis then chose a nice little Italian restaurant courtesy of google search to have brunch in. The decor was modest and pleasing with a typical Italian aesthetic. After ten minutes of looking over the extensive menu, the waiter came to take your orders and as usual the three of you fell into conversations of various topics.

Alexis seemed to be expressing enthusiasm for another girls night out soon - something you knew would result in you drunk as fuck in the back of an urber wondering where it all went wrong.

"I'm still kinda fucked up from the days ago." Jasmine mentioned, fork poking around her huge plate of spaghetti.

You interject taking the occasional bite from your plate. "You ain't lying."

"The liquor store is calling my name." Alexis added.

"Well it's definitely not calling mine. Drinking turns me into a whole different person."

"I mean that's normal. And it should be fine, especially since you bagged a white man. With that liquor in your system I'm sure you can show him some things he's never had in his life."

"I don't really think he's white. I think he's something else."

"Something like what? Middle Eastern?"

You gave another shrug. "I don't know. He gives me Jason Momoa vibes. Like he could be a mix of multiple ethnicities." Speaking of Jason Momoa - everybody knew that Lisa Bonet was the pussy supreme for having both Lenny and Jason on the best terms two guys can be on after being with the same woman. If that wasn't Black Girl Magic you didn't know what is. Miss Bonet needs to write a book.

Speaking of John, you felt a little bad about leaving him at the apartment for your girls but you blamed it on need for a mani pedi. As a woman you should never feel sorry going treating yourself, mentally allocating that maybe you'd latched on harder than you originally thought.

If you were dealing with another guy and had an incident similar to the one with the Perkins woman, you'd never want to deal with the man again. Truth be told, you'd never hated a woman over a man because you couldn't value men over women. At the same time, you admitted that you weren't keen on sharing him with another woman. In hindsight, there was reason to believe that John valued you enough to where you wouldn't have to worry about other women. Somehow John didn't strike you as a commitment type of man. Honestly speaking though, that didn't stop the anxiety from hanging over you. The last thing you wanted to delude yourself. You might have strong feelings for him but that didn't mean you'd chase after him.

One thing you learned about men was that they were gonna do whatever they wanted to. Therefore considering them in every decision you make was detrimental. As a matter of a fact, John had convinced you that there was nothing going on and you somewhat believed him. But it couldn't be that you were easily persuaded could it? You refused to believe it.

The topic of conversation needed to be switched soon, you didn't really want to linger on it too long. "What's up with you and PJ?" You asked Alexis.

"We're good. He took me out to this nice little steakhouse the other day. Those rolls were so good, I damn near had a stroke."

"I can't wait until you post him on your snap. Andreas is gonna be so sick." Jasmine laughed.

"As a dog."

"Why haven't you posted him yet?" You inquired, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Timing is everything. Just gotta wait for the right time is all. The trick is to give him some hope of us getting back together. Then crush his heart. PJ said that he was going outta town this weekend so guess where imma be? Outta town with him."

"As you should."

"My bag is already packed."

Jasmine nodded in approval. "Pack your best outfits and be sure to get out in them streets."

"Oh you don't have to tell me. I'm assembling all my hoe fits."

"Here for it."

It was silent for a moment as the three of you settled into digging into the plates of food on the table. Only broken when Alexis received a ping notification on her phone.

"Chile…" Alexis sat her phone on the table to allow you and Jasmine to see the text message notification. "I'm not taking the bait."

"Well, you can't play dead forever." Jasmine said.

"Watch me."

You shook your head at this. "I hope he blows your phone up just for that."

"Bitch that block button works just fine. I'm not losing no sleep."

"Don't block him, he's just tryna communicate."

"Well considering the circumstance that won't be possible. First off, he got caught cheating. Then had the nerve to be talking about a break. Fuck a break. I'm finna slide while you figure out what you want."

Seriously, you didn't blame Alexis. Men these days thought they were slick, often finding out too late that women could be baby oil if they wanted to.

"Well he's sneaky, sneaky."

According to FB, he was active four hours ago." Jasmine mentioned, scrolling her feed.

"But he hasn't posted in nine hours."

"He's doing something or someone." Alexis insisted.

"That does not mean that."

"So anyway girl, like I was saying…"

You and Jasmine burst into laughter than had you stomach cramping something fierce.

* * *

John's not there when the three of you return to the apartment and you breathed a sigh of relief inside. As much as you loved them, you didn't trust your friends not to embarrass you if they got the chance to meet him. Let's be real, you didn't expect him to understand the essence of a black female friendship. You were certain that he wouldn't appear uncomfortable in their presence if he did choose to show back up if they were still here, probably only observant of the lively dynamic and banter amongst the three of you and keep his distance.

Jasmine and Alexis left after about an hour and with nothing better to do, you took up your place on the couch in front of the tv where you decided you would stay for a while.

The time is just pushing around four in the afternoon and you realize that you've spent a good chunk of the day lounging around. With tomorrow looming closer, you were already dreading it because you knew that your professor would work your nerves before you even made it to the interview. Worse still, the interview could end up being a major break for you yet your excitement was being squandered by the person who'd set it up.

When dealing with men your guard was up, now in this circumstance your guard was nowhere to be found per say. Like it was being blocked somehow. To be frank, you weren't entirely sure if it was the intimate connection or penis doing the blocking. All you knew was that when it came to him, you were forever hot and ready like a deep dish pizza from little caesars. Probably because the contract killer went above and beyond satisfying any sexual impulses. A high sex drive was relatively healthy for a man in his prime.

It took a strong man to persevere in this life doing what he did. In all your years of living you'd never known nor met anyone who lived an even remotely similar lifestyle that John did. How did he carry on in his daily life? With varying degrees of normality? You wondered where his place of residence was. You doubted that he had to deal with a sleazy landlord. The way John lived outside of his work was entirely a mystery to you. From what you gather, he seemed like a pretty closed off individual. Was it possible to know more about him? His lifestyle, his occupation, what his life was like before said occupation.

Of course they conversated but never too much about his personal or professional life. Though you didn't take him for the type to flat out bare his soul to you, John was a nice man, a sensible, rational man who was very polite and never raised his voice. There were plenty of men who were nurturing; John and your father being prime examples. Apparently, those older men would come through every time. His calm behavior brought on blind obedience that you had idea you were capable of. He was miles away from your favored type yet he could read you like a book. You didn't know another man like him. The desire to understand and experience him was strong. For you dating wasn't all that hard, you just chose to give it a break for a while.

You got the impression that he wasn't used to this kind of thing either despite the interesting adjustments for them both. No question that it was highly uncharacteristic for him to bestow any woman with special treatment. Not knowing that this was a first for you as well. He knew more about your likes and dislikes than you did about his. There wasn't a day that went by where you didn't wonder what he thought of you. But you knew in your heart that there was no telling what he was thinking. Of all the times to wish you were a mind-reader.

Did he think you were mature? While it should be recognized that you hadn't completely shaken off your childish ways, you were only twenty-two.

You would only remain curled up on the couch for a few hours until a knock at the door interrupted that. At first, you were heavily considering ignoring it. But by the fourth knock you had no choice but to consider a different course of action. All you wanted to roll over doze off again.

When you opened the door you hadn't expected your weird landlord to be standing eagerly behind it. He perked up at the sight of you, smiling brightly despite the scowl planted on your face. He had an envelope in his hand that looked like it had your name on it.

"Hey _, I noticed that you hadn't picked up your mail yesterday so I thought I'd bring it to you."

You regarded him for a few moments before asking, "Why didn't you just leave it in my box?"

"I didn't know if you were home so...I just thought I'd hand deliver it to you." He said, offering you the mail to which you quickly snatched.

The explanation made absolutely no sense whatsoever and there was no way he didn't know that. The sheer absurdity of it nearly made you laugh aloud and you probably would have if only you didn't want to give him the impression that you thought his actions were out of the kindness of his heart. He was expecting you to invite him into your apartment - something you would never do even if he insisted. You knew exactly where his stare was fixated.

"Thanks but next time leave it in the box." You moved to shut the door but his foot blocked it.

"Wait, umm can I take you out sometime? Like a movie or you can come over to my place…"

Your brows drew down in irritation mostly because you didn't feel like dealing with this shit today. "No, thank you." _Just what the fuck was up with this guy?_

Ever persistent the man seemed intent on not letting you close the door in his face. In fact, he was just one step away from forcing himself in and you increased the force you used in order to try and move his foot.

Swerving your gaze over his shoulder, your heart constricts once you spot your lover striding down the hall towards the direction of your apartment, his face naturally carrying it's usual seriousness especially since finding the man within your vicinity again. In spite of the fact, you were a little shocked you couldn't be happier to see him at the moment. He wasn't kidding when he'd insinuated that he would pop up to save you should an issue arise. John was radiating that deathly aura again, the one that makes your hair stand on end. You knew that if given leave - John wouldn't hesitate to incite violence on the man if he felt the guy was a threat to you in any capacity. And the man was looking like quite the problem showing up at your place constantly. This could turn ugly very quickly.

John stood stock still behind the man before he eventually realized it. You couldn't help but notice how John towered over the mousy landlord, glowering at him like an owl preparing to devour its recently caught meal. John was practically burning a hole into the side of the man's face once he turned to give you a panicked look once more. The look John gave the man was enough to have your skin crawling and the look wasn't even on you. Your landlord was perturbed, having no idea that he was literally staring into the eyes of death itself. Even you could sense the man's unease as he bared the full weight of John's ire. It was obvious that the landlord didn't know who he was dealing with.

Just John's stare felt like a threat in itself and you were positive that the hitman wrapping his arms around you yesterday was a warning. A warning that went ignored but a warning no less. Sooner or later John's patience would run out and this badgering landlord would be dead. And you wouldn't blame John. The man's behavior bordered on harassment. You wouldn't stand for it and neither would John. You just prayed to God that he wouldn't pull anymore slick shit like this anymore for his sake.

With no more words forthcoming, the man eased around John and took off down the hall. You were more than rattled by the experience, placing a hand over your chest to calm your rapidly beating heart. You let John in with no questions and locked the door hastily behind him. That told you just how wary you were.

"Is that going to become a problem?"

"It already is, it's just the least of them right now." You answered?

After this whole ordeal, you got the impression that John wasn't too keen on your landlord. Something had to be done about that. The thought of being alone with him made you scared shitless. You were absolutely positive that if your landlord got his way, you'd end up chained in a basement somewhere. Nonetheless, you were beyond thankful for John showing up the moment he did. You guessed it was natural for him to feel the need to protect you given that you both were in a sort-of-kinda relationship. Some would call it a long term booty call but whatever.

You felt a little awkward after that altercation, not that you had anything to feel awkward about. You retook your place on the couch a little surprised when John silently followed. You expected him to be off on a job and not be seen for a few days just like in the early stages of the situationship. The man himself was used to disappearing for long periods of time with no explanation. The thing that disturbed you though, was that he yet to show you any affection and it seriously worried you. Was he upset about you leaving this morning? You weren't sure but the lack of attention was starting to grate on your really sensitive nerves.

Everyone has a different layer of emotions. John Wick was not very emotional on the surface so you kinda have to navigate carefully. The man was not easily moved or affected at all. There was a high indication that he was emotionally unavailable. This shouldn't be so surprising for a man in his profession. Even for all your time together he had yet to open up. Though you felt anxious not knowing where you stood. One thing you knew was that he was a very direct person and it didn't take a rocket scientist to ascertain that your communication styles were vastly different. Both of you were different in culture as well. He wasn't on Snapchat, didn't watch Love and HipHop, and probably didn't know who Cardi B was.

If you had to take a guess, he'd gone home to shower and change clothes. That was the most logical explanation since you didn't think that he had a side job apart from the one in the killing business. Still it couldn't hurt to ask.

"Where did you go?"

"Home."

You had no idea how to respond to that statement and he clearly didn't see fit to expand on it any further. Maybe it just wasn't any of your business. You settled back into channel surfing with him sitting on the other end of the couch. Something told you that he wasn't a good conversation starter and neither were you.

After a while you notice that he's been looking at you for a long time and you could tell that he was thinking of something. You hoped he would say something soon to break the ice, you didn't want there to be a miscommunication between the two of you.

"Oh well, me and the girls went to the nail shop today." You held up a hand for him to see and placed both feet into his lap. "Do you like it?"

You thought he might not like his personal space being invaded, deciding to test the waters a bit. There was nothing wrong with a person wanting their boundaries to be respected. You didn't want to come off as pushy either. If he cared about personal space, he certainly wasn't making it known.

Your heart skipped a few beats and you thought it was time to be taken to the king once one of his hands gently took hold of your feet and inspected it.

"Yes." He said as he planted a kiss on base. "I do."

The sweet moment was soon ruined when he skimmed over a tender spot on your foot making you squirm and let out a giggle. His brows went up in subtle surprise at the reaction. He'd just discovered that you were ticklish. Lips turning up at the corner, John secured a good grip on your foot and started massaging it. Unable to escape, you let out a series of giggles which only increased in volume the longer the torture went on. No matter how many times you tried to yank your foot out of his grasp the attempts proved futile.

And just like that, your shitty monday had been transformed. This was the pick me up you needed. Reassurance hits differently when it's not asked for.

You felt as if you looked good today and apparently good enough to easily ensnare the full attention of a certain someone who was looking at you under a heavily lidded gaze. Twenty solid minutes into reality television, an arm comes over to pull you closer to him. He gently pulls you onto his lap with minimal effort and you hated that you were so hyper aware of his every action. His eyes - they always had the ability to lure you in. The smell of his cologne was pulling you in a daze. On top of everything else, he looked absolutely mouthwatering.

The sexual tension was heavy in the air and you rejoiced at that. You thought perhaps he would continue to hold you at arm's length with no want for anything beyond that. It felt so damn good to be wrong.

You immediately thought back to the night before. Last night was life changing. You remember how it felt when he deliberately stuck his tongue into your most unexplored place and couldn't stop your body from clenching and your cheeks from heating up. He got you wetter than the Nile River. The north remembers. How in the hell did you manage to bag this man of all men?

"Have you been behaving yourself milaya?"

What was that? That foreign word? The way he spoke it sounded affectionate so that was your first clue. You couldn't tell if it meant due it being a part of another language - it didn't sound like a phrase or a demand. You'd paid enough attention to know that this was the first time you'd heard the word leave his mouth when addressing you. Unlike him, you were not bilingual. In high school, you'd taken a spanish class that you somehow managed to pass with a low B. There weren't many words from that language that you could remember since it was so long ago.

He watched as your depression morphed into one of confusion. The resulting amusement in his eyes became visible soon after and that left you even more perplexed.

His arms tighten until you nodded an answer.

"Words." He demanded, that enigmatic aura wrapped around him.

"Yes."

You didn't really believe in labels all that much. You absolutely hated that you were now at the 'what are we?' stage. You always thought you were too good to ask that question to anyone. Oh how the tables have turned. The new development was worrying. You never knew what he was going to do and that fear of the unknown always kept you somewhat on the edge.

"I have an interview with a local news station tomorrow sanctioned by one of my professors. Jasmine volunteered to take me."

John turned his head to level his perceptive gaze unto you. "You don't have a car?"

"None. I'm working on it. I've been saving up for about two years but someone big always comes up and drains my savings. I mean it's cool because not having a car really didn't affect me all that much since I usually walk or take the train."

"It'll work itself out."

"Yeah, I have faith it will."

There was a nice outline in the front of his pants, you tried but failed to ignore. Simply giving in when you realized the reluctance was pointless. Leaning back a fraction, you moved a hand in between the two of you towards his crotch. One of his hands stopped that action before it could take place and a pout would make its way unto your face shortly after. You didn't want to seem moody because honestly speaking you had no real reason to be. Sex isn't exactly on your mind right now, you'd rather just enjoy his company for the time being. He truly enjoyed being in your presence and he let it be known through words and actions. It did cause your chest to warm significantly.

You didn't have to do anything. You could just watch tv and it would be fine with you. It could go either way.

You'd learned that John was a very solitary individual. There was a hollowness about him - almost like he didn't engage with feeling. A definite effect of not living a normal life if that wasn't already obvious. You could bear the perpetual silence, since silence didn't necessarily mean he wouldn't communicate. It was still too early for him to shed his neutral mask. While you were a healthy mix of extroverted and introverted, the hitman was heavily introverted.

You felt so comfortable and safe around him it was perplexing. John's deep, brusque voice always made you weak in the knees. You loved to hear him speak and it was rough seeing as he was the very definition of a man of few words. It was almost as if you couldn't get enough of him. Oddly enough, you had never had much of a sex drive before you met him. Being so close to him sparked an irrational excitement. After yesterday, you'd gladly drop your panties with no hesitation. Beyond that, you had no problem initiating, in fact, you would do just about anything to get him to stick his dick back inside you; more than aware of what it could do.

This was more than a shallow attraction to one another though having to psychoanalyze everything was something you'd grown to hate. The best course of action would be to just live in the moment. Bask in it for the time being. Who knows how long it would last. While it sucked to even consider, sometimes you just gotta be like - 'it was fun while it lasted and move on with your life.' It was most definitely easier said than done especially due to the fact that it would absolutely kill you to have part with his dick. Too bad your mind and body operated separately from one another.

What was between them would remain unspoken, for now at least.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Sweet Consecration**

**A/N: I'm back! 2020 has been kicking my ass for the longest. 2021 me please! School has started back off without a hitch and I already have 52 assignments due by next week. First off, let me start by saying I am not one of those writers who are blessed with the ability to write a full chapter in one day, even though I wish I was. I would put out soooo many chapters in such a short time, it's not even funny lol. I'm somewhat of a perfectionist who needs time to brainstorm and construct the next chapter. Plus, I love long chapters so be patient with me. Writing porn with plot is clearly my expertise so be prepared because things are about to start getting juicy from this point forward! Thanks for encouraging me! Enjoy my loves!**

* * *

You didn't know why you woke up in the first place, but you could feel that something was amiss. You could just feel it. Everything just felt all around wrong. A coldness had enveloped your entire body and was loath to let it go. You were standing in an empty void that had soon transformed into your bedroom a fraction of a second later. Everything was moving in slow motion.

The closet slowly opened to reveal your landlord staring straight at you with the biggest cheshire smile on his face. The grin pulled back his lips and cheeks to the point where every inch of his gums were showing. The sight was one of the more disturbing images you'd ever seen and you'd watched a number of horror films growing up.

Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced out frantically to see John clad in his dark attire, stepping from the shroud of unending shadow of darkness. Why the hell was he standing in your room was unclear. His eyes looked dead almost as if there was nothing in them. You've seen it on his face before but now the look terrified you.

The man's right hand held a scary looking gun that was slowly being lifted in the direction of your landlord's head. Your heart must've dropped in the deepest pits of your stomach.

"John...don't."

The shot was loud enough to the point where your ears were ringing. When you looked at your landlord, you were horrified to find his brains splattered all over the wall. The sight nearly forced bile up from your stomach. It was so grotesque. As much as you hated the guy, he didn't deserve to die like this. Brains blown out in your bedroom.

More scared than you could ever remember being, you turned to John only to find his gun now aimed at you. "John, what are you doing?" His facial expression unchanged. Suddenly a burning pain was felt in your stomach and you looked down to a bloodied hole there.

A glimmer of awareness returned to your eyes as the ceiling came into view. The fact that it never occurred to you that you might be dreaming the whole time was a problem. It was hard to recall when you'd even dozed off in the first place. Your mind being free to wander while you slept was distressing enough. You certainly didn't need any sleep disturbances. This was not your first nightmare brought on by stress and anxiety and it likely wouldn't be the last. The dream was the most unsettling thing you'd experienced in quite a while. The dream itself felt like you'd been in a trance for hours unchecked.

Your eyes darted around the living room - fortunately there was no dead landlord and no pistol wielding John Wick. Everything seemed in order - everything but your mind perhaps. But that was okay because you were still working on getting that together. It was difficult to be able to relax back into sleep as it was. Your heart was beating way too fast, unable to process that your conscious thoughts had morphed into a dream and that you weren't in any immediate danger. After John left, you'd ended up falling asleep on the couch.

After a while most of your dreams would go unremembered. Now that it was morning and some time had passed, you could vaguely recall some aspects of the dream - John shooting you being the main one. With no point in lying to yourself, you couldn't accurately say that your view of him wasn't somewhat distorted. John wouldn't dare point a gun in your direction would he? Relatively speaking...John was not a threat to you - maybe to a selected group of others but certainly not you. Were you afraid of him deep down? It was a dark speculation. All that overthinking you'd done the previous day threatened to make a swift reappearance; you could not allow it to negatively affect your daytime energy or activities. Any energy would be preserved for positive things. If you spent your whole day thinking of him, nothing would ever get done.

Realistically speaking, you couldn't backpedal on how you felt about him based on a dream.

Permitting your unconscious mind to cripple you and prevent you from living your life. It wasn't going to happen. You didn't need this shit right now. What good would it do to be a paranoid shell of your former self? Ultimately, your life was what you made it. If you perceived it to be bad, then it was bad. If you thought of it as good then that's what it was. No in-between. Maybe you just needed a more positive outlook on things.

Bothered some deep part of your psyche and you just couldn't let things play out without overthinking. You would do your best to shield yourself from all things unpleasant.

Today would be a busy day and you couldn't afford to be distracted. A simple phone call to your mother should be enough to soothe your restless mind at least for a while.

* * *

Tuesday provided a deceptively chilly morning that would carry on well into the afternoon. The sun was still beaming overhead. There were a variety of people at the station and yet you still felt quite different from everyone. There's people casually strolling around, making light conversation. You were dressed in your best professional clothing with the prettiest pumps from the boutique Alexis worked for. You made her promise not to sell them to any customer before you could buy them. Jasmine helped you pick your outfit out for the occasion after you both bickered like cats and dogs for thirty minutes beforehand. You told her to wait for you in the lobby area since unauthorized guests were not allowed past a certain point.

Glazed donuts and coffee sat on a table for the sole purpose of having people devour them. You could smell the sweet, sugary aroma of food the moment you walked in. And as much as you wanted to call yourself ignoring the temptation, you eventually gave in. Though the taste of the warm pastry didn't make you regret your decision in the slightest. For once it didn't smell better than it tastes.

Your initial excitement was dampened when you spotted your professor speaking with another classmate who was vying for the same potential job opening as you. Laughing obnoxiously in the other's face like something was just so fuckin hilarious that he couldn't pay you the slightest attention. Shit like that really pissed you off. Every interaction with Professor Thomas continued to drift around in your subconscious unwittingly at random times. This man had been stepping on yours for at least a year now with no foreseeable end in sight. Distinguished director of the Journalism board or not, he was not about to continue playing in your face like you weren't deserving of some kind of respect.

With no concern for interrupting, you walked up to the pair, careful to note that the conversation had stopped.

You offered one of your brightest smiles even though he didn't deserve a fraction of your generosity, you still felt it necessary to give. "Professor Thomas."

No smile or greeting was offered in return. A small incline of his head was given before he attempted to engage with the male once more. He was truly one of the most insensitive people you knew. He was one of those people whose behavior was juvenile in a sense that it was almost too hard to prove to others.

That little voice in the back of your mind was getting louder and more restless. Even provided an unprecedented opportunity you were terrible at pretending. If something was bothering you, there would soon be at least one attempt to acknowledge the nuisance at any given time.

That considered, you felt as if he had already made up his mind that your classmate deserved the position over you despite the time and effort you put in your labor. It wasn't the guy's fault so you couldn't blame him. History had shown that white men were often given positions over people of color even if the latter was much more qualified. It was one of the harsh realities of the world - one you weren't prepared to face or accept just yet. Frankly you didn't have the willpower or self-control to just sit and ignore how you were being treated as opposed to your white counterpart. You are not learning to cope with anything that you didn't think was right in the first place. Your tolerance with the old man had long run out. You intended to make your voice heard even if it carried the risk of damaging your grade or ruining your reputation.

"You know what you're doing is really rude right? I greet you and you don't say anything."

The look that appeared on his face was nothing short of taken aback - like he wasn't expecting you to address his behavior.

"I'm sorry...I wasn't aware that I needed to acknowledge your presence." He explained, exacerbating the defensiveness he was always quick to envelope himself in.

"It's just common courtesy. But I'm thinking that maybe you don't know anything about that."

The air was suddenly brimming with mounting tension and the male classmate standing between you two had picked up on it. He began shifting uncomfortably, watching you with nervous eyes.

"Oh I know plenty about it. I was just under the impression that a person could extend that course to whomever they felt worthy enough to receive it."

Right away, you wanted to be surprised but you just couldn't muster up the faux reaction. You knew what to expect from the get-go. Irritation was festering inside of you like a million ants. In that moment, your mother's voice echoed in your mind, "Not everything deserves a reaction, a response or your energy." The statement heavily contradicted how you were feeling. You didn't much give a damn about maintaining any sense of class or poise. You felt disrespected in one of the worst possible ways.

Another person's behavior usually wouldn't affect you like this but this particular professor was just that good at rubbing you the wrong way. You were sick to death of having to deal with his condescending attitude.

"I'm one of your most valued students, top of my class with honors. And you think I'm not deserving of common courtesy? That's really strange to hear since you're the one who selected me as a candidate for this job. Or do you think I don't deserve this either?"

A twinge of pained annoyance started creeping up your spine.

You couldn't articulate how you were feeling only that you're in between breaking down and tearing everything around you apart. There wasn't any gnashing of the teeth, no flipping of chairs and tables - just calm mounting fury. You had about one ounce of serenity left in you before you went ballistic. If Jasmine were allowed into the studio area she'd have already caused a scene the likes of which would really be newsworthy.

"I just feel as though Joseph would be more…"

The words flowed like a bucket of cold water dumped over your head. Having tuned out the rest of the sentence, you merely stared into nothing. You quickly cut him off. "That's not up for you to decide. And for that I'm thankful."

"I'm the one who gives the recommendations young lady. It may as well be my decision."

"Then why am I here? Why select me as a potential candidate if you had no real intention of me getting it? So it wouldn't look like you were showing favoritism and just hand it over to someone else?"

The man wisely said nothing. Knowing if he were to open his mouth he would give himself anyway.

You were beyond offended by the lack of response. Squeezing the small cup of coffee in your hand, you threw it right into his face.

The old bastard's face reddened with anger immediately. "Have you lost your mind!?" He says the words plainly like you were the one being unreasonable. "Did you forget who..."

"I don't care about none of that!" At this point, you were not concerned with catching considerable heat. You had a right to feel the way you do with good reason. He'd never planned to give you the position in the first place; all in account of who he thought should have it. People love to tell you what you aren't.

An awkward silence fell over the studio and you could feel that all eyes were focused in your direction.

"Fuck you! I don't want anything from you. Give the fucking job to Joesph." You stomped out of the room right after.

* * *

"Girl you didn't need that little funky ass job anyway." Alexis claimed. With one phone call, she was at your apartment in a heartbeat, suggesting that all three of you should go back to the station and fight everybody. On one hand, it sounded like a fantastic idea but the rational part of you knew that it would accomplish nothing.

"But I really wanted that little funky ass job though."

It didn't help that you'd been preparing all year to get it either. Perfect go-getter attitude. Tons of work ethic. And your resume was immaculate. There was no way you didn't have it in the bag.

In a way, you kind of helped him achieve his goal. Thanks to your outburst, Joseph was sure to get the position over you. That was a guaranteed fact. On the other hand, you finally gave your shitty professor a peace of your mind. You doubted that an appropriate apology had even crossed his feeble mind. As his pride would be on the line if he did and you knew he valued that above all else. Not that it was surprising, people his age were often set deep in their ways, unwilling to change or accept change. Sooner or later - he would have to reap what he sewed. And you hoped that time came soon.

"You can find another." Jasmine chimed in.

The whole situation still made you irritated beyond belief and you hated being irritated, it was the quickest way to make you cry.

You sagged back against the couch with a heavy exhale drink in hand. Your friends were trying to make you feel better by cracking jokes and dropping little positivity tidbits but it was all in vain. You couldn't even spare a genuine laugh. In life there are no reruns, no do overs. No lie, your twenties are teaching you patience. You could never put up this shit when you were sixteen. Sometimes it was hard to have belief in one's self. You felt as if you were losing yourself with every day that passes. Maybe you just needed a little encouragement. You wanted better for yourself. It was a normal human response, you only concern was what did that better entail? What sacrifices would you have to make in turn? It was hard to comprehend. Working out the logistics of it seemed too hard. You needed to consider being on an episode of Iyanla: Fix My Life.

Albeit still, you couldn't abide by failure and the feelings associated with it. Since you were a child, you hated to fail at anything. What major life changing event were you blocking out that made you this?

Technically speaking, it was natural for a person to go through a depression stage in life. Jasmine had one when her grandmother died and Alexis experienced one after her first heartbreak. Both of them were nearly inconsolable and you had never seen them so upset. Though it was comforting to have people there for you to help you see it through.

Regardless of how you currently felt, everything always ends up working out, sometimes even better than you could ever imagine. Perhaps it wasn't meant for you to get the job anyway. This was a lesson in progress - a lesson of you can't have everything at the moment. What's meant for you will be for you.

Alexis huffed in frustration. "Look girl, I don't know what else to do. We've said and tried everything in the book to make you feel better. At this point, you just gotta give it to God."

Jasmine nodded in support.

"This is probably that sign I've been waiting for." You sighed. "Might need to go shake my ass on a pole."

"Bitch you can't dance."

"They don't know that."

Alexis snorted. "They will when you bust yo ass on that pole."

"Two things for sure one thing for certain. I'm gonna be okay."

"That's what I like to hear. I don't want you crying and moping all damn night."

A lightbulb went off in your brain, this attitude would have to get the fuck on somewhere. And you knew exactly what to do. Nothing was going to stop you from getting lit tonight. The slightest boost of serotonin would work. "Let's go to the Mirage."

"On a Tuesday night? I don't think so. And these are your own words I'm using."

"It's fine! It'll be a celebration."

"Celebration of what though?"

"Just support me in my time of need. That's all I need. Do this for me y'all, I don't ask for much."

Alexis and Jasmine shared a look before shrugging.

"Well at least give us time to get ready. I don't wanna walk in there looking like who did it and what for."

After that, the idea was pretty much a go. Tonight's occasion would be getting drunk in honor of yourself.

When the three of you finally got to the club, shots were ordered and taken straight to the head. Aleix wasted no time filming everything on her phone, saying how proud of you she was. Truthfully, you didn't even think to scold her about capturing video evidence of your descent into alcoholism. Before long you were throwing drinks back like nobody's business. You'd downed drink after drink and that little buzz was starting to make itself known. You welcomed it with open arms. But the alcohol wasn't doing its job good enough. It wasn't pushing back the sadness like you thought it would. Having previously worked as a bartender, you know better than anyone that drinking to escape your problems wouldn't work. Even then you'd listened to quite a few sob stories from various patrons and sometimes the alcohol made it worse.

The female bartender serving you seemed to notice your wretchedness and often gave you sympathetic looks when she thought you weren't paying attention. You hated how she looked at you with such pity - pity that you didn't want right now. You wanted to feel like you were on top of the world.

Jasmine and Alexis were on the dancefloor but you didn't join them. You had no desire to dance, all you wanted to do was drink. Drink to forget today. Sadly, you hadn't eaten anything before you started drinking and that would lead to big problems later on.

By this point, you were definitely a little drunk but not to the point of being totally incoherent - even you knew better to let that happen. Before you left the house, Jasmine had offered you some peach Paul Masson which you vehemently rejected. Just the smell of it would have you vomiting all over the place. The drink had put you in positions that you wouldn't willingly put yourself in even under the threat of death. You thought it was terrible that it was Jasmine's go-to drink for every occasion. And worst of all, it had taken you nearly three days to fully recover from the effects. The experience was hellish. With as many times as it put you on your ass, you would never fuck with it again. Sometime along the road, you'd learned a little trick from some of your heavy drinking family members that involved taking a BC beforehand to avoid a bad hangover.

A guy with one side of his head was shaven and a woman under his arm bumped into you causing the drink in your left hand to spill all over your front. He spared you a look, not even bothering to give an apology. That pissed you off.

"Um excuse you." You sneered, taking the napkins from the holder in an attempt to clean yourself up.

"Oh my bad."

"That's it? That's all you have to say after you bumped into me?"

"It was a fucking accident man...don't…"

"An accident that you still haven't apologized for!"

You were even more offended when he turned his nose up at you and scoffed. The bitch on his arm mirrored the look and you were about 3.5 seconds from beating both of their asses. Suddenly, you noted that there was a white residue under his nose. And that pretty much told you everything you needed to know about this guy. Luckily the bartender had watched the entire exchange and bid the couple to keep it moving or they would be escorted out by the bouncer. Luckily your girls weren't there to witness the incident or you were that they would've jumped him and his bimbo on the spot.

You pinched the skin between your nose. Was everybody working together to try your nerves today? It sure seemed like it. You came here because you thought it might make you feel better, in fact, it had done the complete opposite. You thought you wanted this but now you realized that coming here was a huge mistake. There was only one last resort now. Pulling out your phone you dialed a number.

"Can you come get me?"

* * *

In your wallowing, you'd completely forgotten about John's existence.

You hadn't anticipated that the man would take you back to his house, the location of which you expected to remain ambiguous just like all other aspects of his life. The home was as secluded as a house could possibly be. Mill Neck was generally where all the super rich people took up residence. About an hour's way from Manhattan but seeing as how your lover drove like he was a speed racer the drive was cut down dramatically to about thirty minutes. In all, you were shocked that you hadn't fallen asleep during the drive since you were slumped in the passenger seat with your head against the window the whole time.

The car pulled into the garage slowly and the huge door came back down before John pulled the key from the ignition bathing the space in silence. Knowing you would have trouble getting out, John took the library to help you out of the car and allowed you to use him for support so you wouldn't have to stumble around.

John Wick's house was one of the most beautiful places you'd ever seen. Stunning interior was bathed in natural light that just so happened to blend with the outside exterior. There were huge floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the lake. Some of the walls looked to be made purely of glass. Even the house's decor was tasteful, modern, and surprisingly clean. Usually men who lived alone didn't keep up with their house and were filthy. John's place was absolutely spotless. You could only guess just how expensive this house was on the market. Being a hitman paid well you guess. You wouldn't be surprised if the bat cave was located directly under his house.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't fawning over the place. You just wanted to touch everything in sight.

"The shower is this way." He explained, leading you through his magnificent house.

The bathroom itself was a marvel to look at as well as its glass encased shower. The granite made for an equally gorgeous setup, a setup you were too drunk to memorize all the details of this little slice of heaven. There would be a better chance at remembering in the morning. The water sprayed in calming jets as you stood under it. A noise recaptured your attention and your gaze rotated to see John leaning against the wall watching your every move while you showered.

His gaze leisurely transverses over your wet form, paying extra attention to the soap and water cascading off your skin. You mischievously held his gaze, moving the bathing cloth over an erect nipple. John's eyes followed the movement and you thought he might join you in the shower. Instead you were rather disappointed when he placed a white fabric on the bathroom counter and closed the door behind him. At least he was considerate enough to leave you one of his white button-up shirts on the counter, knowing you had no other clothing to put on. Otherwise you'd be walking around naked.

After you spent some considerable amount of time in the shower, you dressed and wandered around the maze of a house admiring things until sounds drew your attention. You found him in the kitchen standing in front of a counter cleaning what looked to be his coffee pot. An intricate coffee pot but a coffee pot no less. Seeing him do normal tasks was strange.

You took a seat on the counter. "I love your house."

John hums in acknowledgment. Placing the pot back in its place, John turned to face you. His suit jacket was absent, leaving him in a dress shirt with some of the buttons undone and trademark black slacks. The sight painted a picture of suave attractiveness and sensuousness.

Unable to hold your gaze with him for an extended period of time, you simply kept your eyes downcast.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, always so perfectly calm and put together. He must have noticed that you were not acting your normal self tonight. It was the only explanation you could come up with for him to poise the question so casually.

You did feel comfortable talking to him about your problems especially since he minds his business and yours. But you were keeping your most private emotions to your chest. You didn't know if it was right but it feels right. Though inwardly, you owed him so much more than quandary and insecurity. You were full of nagging feelings and unpredictable mood swings. All you craved in life was wisdom, peace, and purpose. And here you were on the verge of an emotional breakdown. You shouldn't feel this fucking miserable.

"No." You responded quietly, staring up at him with big watery eyes. Truthfully, you didn't even know to explain your anguish, it was just one of those days.

John arches an eyebrow at your anomalous exchange, he could obviously hear the emotion in your voice. His brows drew down and it was clear that your despair was something that he didn't like to see but he would not press the issue if you didn't want to talk about it.

Emotions were clasping tightly around your neck. Your chest was so heavy with emotion you feared you might break down over the smallest thing. A direct result of pent-up anxiety which was becoming an all too disturbing pattern. Before you knew it, tears were flowing freely down your cheeks, silent hiccups escaped before you could stop them. You hadn't meant to break down right in front of him but there was no way for you to stop it. In that moment, you surrendered yourself to him - to be judged, to be scrutinized during your moment of vulnerability.

Sometime during your walling, he'd closed the distance between you both and wrapped his arms around your shaking form. It never occurred to you how much of a mess you might look. This was the worst he'd ever seen you. You didn't even have the capacity to pull yourself together. It was too much of an internal struggle for you. Why did you feel so numb? He held you until you drained your tear ducts dry. That was the only reason you were able to stop crying - had it not been for that you'd still be sobbing. The longer he held you the more you could feel any mental anguish being extinguished. Was it possible that their connection was deepening?

Admittedly, you were not much of a rambler while drunk rather more of a constantly dozing off kind of drunk.

In retrospect, you could definitely see it happening. Those visages of emotion between you two were never fleeting. You were still very accepting of the whole situation. From the outside looking in it could quite possibly be seen as wholly outrageous but this was your life and your choice. His presence was always missed and you both expressed yourself in different ways.

You love the way he looks at you. As if you're the only thing that matters in the world. He cultivates a mystique and air of intelligence that's not at all arrogant or problematic. You thought of him as the handsome loner type that had aloof and reserved mannerisms who never strayed too far from his gentlemanly code. Always excluding a monastic grace and discipline that makes him attractive. He was good at silent communication too. John Wick was a destructive masculine force that you couldn't resist. You blamed it on your unnatural attraction to silent emotionally unavailable men. He was otherworldly in those aspects. He had a certain edge about him, being in the murder business and all.

Beneath his cold exterior there resided another side of him. A dark side that came out now and then. You caught a glimpse of it when he emotionlessly struck down his targets. You understood that he had to let it out sometimes. You liked to think he held a soft spot for you on account of his actions.

You spotted quite a few appetizing wine bottles in a nearby cabinet above the stove. Your mouth instantly salivated but you pushed those thoughts down. Aside from that you were still feeling a bit hazy as a result of tonight's liquor still flowing strongly within your system and John probably would start thinking you were an alcoholic. Besides, wine drinking made you extremely horny. Now that the drinking part was done you were looking to get folded like a chair.

Your body was literally crying out for this man's body up against your curves. All the soft kisses and lingering exchange of words put so much in perspective. Sitting in his lap staring into his eyes was one of your favorite places to be. Some part of you likes getting the attention you never received from anyone before him. You craved him, his scent, his mysterious vibe, being in his company.

A hand cupped your face and you leaned slightly into the contact. Like clockwork, your body temperature spiked. It didn't take much to invoke a bout of horniness and have you melting underneath his touches - that was just the effect he had on you. He treated you so tenderly through your sadness. It's a wonder that he was in the profession of killing.

The warmth of his body over yours grew with each passing second. When he pulled back you noticed that his eyes were blackened by lust. Right away, your arms came up to embrace him.

John kissed your nose, then your cheek, causing your heart to flutter. A finger tilted your head up a fraction before his lips finally met yours. He was essentially fucking your mouth with his tongue, swirling his tongue around yours. More turned on than you could ever remember being, you lightly sucked his bottom lip. Your hands moved to pull him out of his pants. For his dick to be as big as it was, you liked to think you took it pretty well. You were exactly sure if he would be okay with you calling on him to come dick you every time a problem arose in life.

He was careful to maneuver your loosely hanging braids from your face.

He hiked the shirt up past your navel and sunk right inside your saturated mount with no effort whatsoever, pussy enveloping him with relish. Splaying agile hands across your chest to fondle your tits while you responded by raking your nails across his surprisingly soft skin. He pressed his forehead against yours as he fell straight into the depths of your suffocating heat. You watched his pectoral muscles flexing through his shirt. There wasn't much wiggle room to move on the counter but that didn't stop you from undulating against him the best you could.

Without a doubt, his counter-top would be left soaked from your activities.

John softly groaned against your open mouth maintaining direct eye contact as he moved effortlessly within your body. Sex with John was fulfilling and not predictable in any sense. His dick spoke life back into you. The strokes were a combination of slow and languid sometimes turning forceful if he felt like you weren't paying attention to the feeling and not everything he was doing to you.

The dim lighting of his spacious bedroom really set the mood. John brought you to the bed with as much grace that could be had while carrying a drunk, half-naked woman, instead of laying you down on its surface, he took a seat right in the middle with you in his lap. The action wasn't expected in the least. Not that it bothered you.

Seizing your waist, John maneuvered you forward with strong arms to bring your lower body to straddle his face. Sitting on a man's face shouldn't feel so intimidating but this particular kind of man made it impossible not to be. Placing most of your weight on your knees, this position was incorporated to focus solely on your pleasure. Not to mention it was extremely sexy.

John flicked his tongue against you vigorously and an abundance of saliva was spread all over as he ate at you sloppily, tongue dipping into the slit. In a thick haze of bliss, you threw your head back, a long whine fell from your parted lips, back arching. At this very moment, this was the best place to be - sitting on his face getting your pussy eaten so disrespectfully. You were certain that all your juices would end up in his beard and that made it even more arousing. John's face was now your favorite seat. He ate at you hungrily like a starving dog, lapping at you in an attempt to quench his thirst. The contract killer even showed much attention to that little pocket of skin between your vulva and anus.

He did everything from parting your folds to circling your clit. And the luscious suction added a new level of stimulation you hadn't thought possible. You didn't realize that you'd started slowly grinding your hips back and forth over his face. It was getting harder to support yourself.

Purring in satisfaction when he gingerly removed the only article of clothing off your body. You were well beyond the point of feeling embarrassed to be naked under his guarded gaze. He positioned you on your side, your left leg coming up unto his shoulder. This intimate position allowed for lots of leverage and you know that he's more than aware of that. It gave you the distinct impression that he liked to watch himself disappear in and out of your body. You didn't crave a tender loving this time - you wanted to be fucked.

Him subsequently seating his pulsing dick deep inside causes a sharp intake of breath to leave you. The feeling so ridiculously amazing that a symphony of moans and wails reverberated in the bedroom. John leaned over you to lick and kiss your back gently while he stroked you out. Your body could help but to quake, your stomach lurching. Eyes rolling back as he hipbones pressed intimately against the curve of your thighs.

He centers you right in the middle of mind-blowing pleasure. The way that this man was making you lose your shit like this was dangerous. Every shitty emotion and depressing thought from today was being fucked out of you. By now you were so past the point of coherent thought, all you could do was feel.

"There. Right there." You moaned out shamelessly. "Ahhh fuck me…"

You felt a momentary pause in his movements, almost like he'd faltered for a second before continuing his ministrations more intensely. He had to be shocked at the amount of obscene words coming from your mouth. Apparently, getting drunk causes filth to come out of your mouth and turns you into a porn-star.

"It feels so good."

Every thrust hit deep like he had a railgun for a dick. The way he rolled his hips on the in-stroke, the sensation left you dizzy. You accidentally dug your nails into his hip and he seemed to move with even more vigor because of it. The change in pace had you writhing - it wasn't exactly fast but it was far from slow. You almost let a declaration of love pass from your lips and you had to bite your bottom lips to stop any further noise from escaping. In the midst of everything, this might drive you crazy.

Sweat started to slick your bodies.

The wanton sounds of you whimpering and panting were loud in the room and you still couldn't conjure up the tiniest bit of embarrassment for it. John must know his dick is spectacular. If not, this would let him know. The man was a demon the way he utilized his manhood to effortlessly rock you into nirvana. He's never made you work for your orgasm, preferring to give you pleasure so long as he received his in the process. An even exchange.

Your legs were shaking and tensing from the mounting pressure, body virtually vibrating with desire. Every single muscle below your belly button was getting worked to the point of exertion. Your thighs felt like you were receiving a rigorous workout. The muscles of your stomach were beginning to cramp horribly.

While you were attempting to get the slightest bit of air into your lungs, your whole world suddenly tipped off its axis. Shockwaves rippled through your body, white light exploding behind your eyes. A natural high you didn't want to come down from. John soon followed after you, a warm gush coating your insides that signed his release. Maybe you were being too careless letting him continuously shoot up your club but that's what birth control was for. Right now, you didn't have the capacity to dwell on it for long.

John carefully removed your leg from his shoulders while he laid his weight on top of you. He didn't pull out, he just laid there.

"Are you okay Milaya?" He asked, unsurprised you find you already asleep.

* * *

A/N: Milaya - Means 'Darling' in Russian.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Note to Self**

**A/N: Sorry if this chapter seems a little rushed, I had a lot of things happening in the next chapter that I couldn't add to this one. I PROMISE that you guys will love it. That being said, with this chapter I'm doing a little experiment by finally expanding on John's long awaited perspective. A lot of you have been asking and since I feel like always writing from her/your perspective is getting a little stale so I'm willing to indulge. Be sure to tell me what you think about it in the reviews and pull absolutely no punches. Write long ass essays if you want to. My reader's thoughts and opinions are what keeps the story evolving. **

**PS: I uploaded a new story called Dark Armored Fate so feel free to check that out. **

* * *

Initially, John wasn't wasn't usually what to make of her. The plan was to keep tabs on the woman just in case she reported everything she'd seen to the police. Not that it wouldn't have made any difference, the police and criminal underworld had a long-standing mutual agreement that wasn't coming to an end anytime soon. Now, he lay reflecting on how quickly they'd gone from strangers to sleeping comfortably in the same bed next to one another. He paid attention to her long eyelashes nearly laying against her flustered cheeks while she slept. This was not the first time he'd tucked her in and watched her sleep after a lustful session. She was quite the minx when she wanted to be.

She'd already proved herself to be head-strong, responsible, and surprisingly soft-hearted. There's an assertiveness about her, never afraid to speak her mind or express what she felt. When he first laid eyes on her, she was accosted by targets on his radar. Even with a gun pointed squarely in her face, she faced inevitable death with no visible fear. As a man of strict discipline, he'd witness many men turn into cowards the second a firearm was within view. The second she'd settled her deep brown eyes upon him from her crouched position behind the counter could be classified as a crucial moment in time. He could only stare back as she rose to her feet, his stoic face hiding just how baffled he was at her reaction to the chaos she'd witnessed happening. It dawned on him that perhaps their meeting was not serendipitous - as if fate had purposely set the vents in motion.

John was interrupted in his thoughts for a moment as her warm snuggled closer to him in her sleep.

Additionally, she was inadvertently teaching him to value human connection again, something he thought was unattainable while living the life he did. Not entirely helpless nor incapable of defending herself - always striving toward a greater independence than most women could ever conceptualize having. A woman like her tended to look at the world through an introspective lids, working to understand her actions and emotions as to handle forthcoming situations. He knew, it wasn't hard to gage the worry that crossed her features every now and then. Although now, that anxiety was becoming more prevalent as of late.

In all sincerity, she was a bit of an enigma for him just as much as he knew she felt he was. Not at all conventional in any sense that he knew of or was familiar with. Those who knew of him and had the slightest idea of what he did, of what he was - feared him. And yet, she showed no signs of apprehension having full knowledge of the truth. Even after she felt the need to inquire and he'd felt the need to divulge that truth, she still accepted the reality of it all. He knew it wasn't because of the alcohol swirling in her system that night. His confession essentially exposed her to the underworld hidden beneath the shadows of normal civilian life where the vast majority had no absolutely no knowledge of.

Since he'd unexpectedly come out of retirement, his services were becoming more highly requested. He was leaving 'on business' quite often - not because he wanted to but because it gave him something to do. He was aware of the perilous implications that could arise from her being closely attached to him. On the subject of his work, she could be a liability. A liability that she would ensure stayed out of harm's way as her safely remained the highest priority. Right now, this was a matter of choices and consequences.

The thought of anything happening to her is enough to turn his heart in stone. The business can be cruel and unforgiving - it was all too easy for her to be pulled into the grips of the inescapable world. All it would take is one enemy to find out about her link to him and try to use the information in order to gain an advantage over him. The crime syndicate often didn't allow or have room for loved ones. He fully expected that another ill-fated attempt would be made on her life, it was just a matter of when. After the incident in the club bathroom, he'd had to clear out that entire major organization to ensure there was no one left to continue pursuing her with deadly intent.

For a while, he was lost, set adrift on an endless cycle of death and trying to hold onto the long gone civilian life he tried to maintain after Helen's death. So he preserved on, believing himself to be a cursed man in life as Viggo stated not long before he'd dispatched him.

For quite some time he was merely searching for a reason to live. And now, through peculiar events - he believed that he might've found that reason in her. He found himself fighting harder on jobs just so he can return and find embrace within your arms. With no excuse except that coming back to her felt right although it was much more complex than that. Her presence offered a sense of comfort that he had not been able to find for a long time. He often moved in a blind haste when it came to her. When she called, he came running without hesitation. He still found it strange that this woman had become so much to him in such little time and now he couldn't leave her alone if he wanted to.

Of all his enemies and targets, you were probably the most dangerous to him at the moment. Between business and his seemingly quiet life - she had his full undivided attention. She probably was completely unaware of just how much control she had over him. With her, John lusted like he never did before and he had not been this close to anyone in over a year - that warm wetness between her thighs only sealed their fate together.

He was not an unfeeling man - he felt quite deeply actually. It was not in his nature to offload all of his emotions at once - preferring to to focus on one particular emotion at a time. It was not difficult for him to mask those emotions however. He was good with actions not words. He could show much better than he could tell that was for certain.

* * *

You awoke with a groan, trying to narrow your eyes shut against the sunlight from the enormous floor to ceiling windows of the bedroom. It was strange because you didn't even remember falling asleep though it wouldn't be the first time. You never really had the much strength and stamina after sex so the only thing you could do was sleep. One thing about John - he had no problem giving you that work.

A brief moment of peace soon gave way to the unpleasant memories from the previous day and you wanted to pull the covers over your head and let the bed swallow you whole. You refused to start another day feeling absolutely shitty. Turning over, you notice that John's side of the bed is empty.

You choose to lay in bed for at least thirty more minutes, drifting in and out of sleeping until the door opens and John makes his way into the room fully dressed with one of your pink duffle bags in hand. The sound of nails clicking across the floor momentarily confused you before a black pit-bull ran in to excitedly greet you on the bed. It's tail was wagging excitedly as it sniffed you and pressed his nose into your skin.

"Oh. I didn't know you had a dog."

Too bad your mom didn't allow "filthy dogs" in the house while you were growing up. You would've loved to have one.

"Yeah." The bag full of clothes is set on the bed next to you.

"Does he have a name?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Are you feeling better?"

You shook your head. "Not really."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No. Not yet. Maybe later but not right now." You hung your head low, refusing to meet his gaze.

He gave you a look and suddenly you regret your decision. Sadly, he says he'll be back and leaves the room before you can offer an apology.

The dog whimpers at you, as if he can sense the inner turmoil simmering inside you.

Confiding in the man about your problems seemed something people do in most platonic relationships. As far as you knew, you and John's relationship was strictly sexual in nature. It was an issue of not wanting to cross boundaries with him. Technically speaking, you'd already done that when you showed hostility towards another woman for her questionable behavior towards him. It wasn't right for the man to have to deal with your changing spectrum of emotions. The responsibility was yours to handle.

All those times spent pretending to be Tamron Hall in your bedroom mirror were wasted. You just couldn't move past this so easily. Just what the hell were you supposed to tell your parents? That you blew your chances since you didn't have a chance in the first place?

Your father might be quick to understand and accept it but you knew better than to think the same for your mother. She wouldn't go for any of it. You father on the other hand, practically doted on you from the very moment you were born. To him, you were still his little princess who could do no wrong. He'd be down with any decision that made you happy, even if that included cursing out your slightly racist professor and forgoing a job opportunity.

Overall, everything that happened was still a blow to your pride and everything you'd worked for and it couldn't be overlooked so easily. Your displeasure was showing like an unplucked lace and you were resigned to accept things as they were. To be honest, you were tired of charging shit to the game. Your life just needed to do right by you.

You lived in a world where hitmen were prevalent, nothing could possibly surprise you anymore than that. Well, maybe a unicorn that shits rainbows and hundred dollar bills but that was it.

Sifting through the bag, a realization came over you. The bag and the clothes had come from your apartment - meaning that John himself had gone to your apartment to get the items for you. He'd even taken the liberty to put extra clothes in the bag as well, likely for you to have options. The gesture was incredibly thoughtful.

_Was he expecting you to stay a few more days? It was likely so._

Rifling through the clothes, you smile at the sight of the shorts which closely resemble a pair of panties. John Wick apparently, very fond of you walking around in booty shorts. That was an interesting tidbit of information to use for later.

* * *

On your phone, there was an email from the Dean of Students that you avoided completely reading. Immediately, you knew it had something to do with yesterday and you didn't wanna rehash the feelings and details anytime soon. Hopefully, it would fade into nothing but you didn't get your hopes up for that assumption.

Worst of all, your noisy mother had already called twice but you purposely let it go to voicemail before ultimately deciding to send her a text saying you call her back. There was no question in your mind that she wanted to know how the interview went but didn't have the heart to tell her just yet. You weren't ready to explain just how much of a dumpster fire it was; how could you tell her that the one thing you were looking forward to for months had ended in complete disaster. There was only so long you could avoid your mother before she found you. She was not a stranger to showing up at your apartment unannounced; in typically concerned black mother fashion.

You were a little delighted that John left you in his house while he was gone. Through your aimless wandering, you discovered that the place was a two floor, three bedroom suite, with three other rooms including a study loft and a huge garage. The residential, private house was wrapped around a nicely crafted courtyard on both sides. Huge windows let in considerable natural light from the outside. With beautiful magnolia and cherry trees encompassed in various places in the yard. Overall, you really liked the aesthetic of the house.

With nothing to do, you took it upon yourself to raid John's impressive kitchen. A kitchen for most, could be considered as the heart of the home. In any circumstance, you admired a lovely kitchen in anyone's house. He's a simple man who avoids overindulgence in life. Foods like rice, pasta, vegetables, and chicken took up residence in his kitchen. No trace of junk food could be found much to your disappointment. His diet was entirely too healthy for you. Like most normal people, you liked to enjoy the occasional cinnamon rolls or Debbie cakes. Balance played a huge part in his life as well. There was a carton of almond milk in the fridge.

"_So he's a man of taste." _You think.

Since you didn't feel like cooking anything beyond a piece of toast, you opted for a bowl of cereal instead. You sat at the table and read the cereal box while you ate. The atmosphere was really nice - the neutral tones of the place could encourage anyone to want to sip a cup of coffee and read the Sunday paper.

One thing was swirling around your mind though. Privacy was obviously important to John, so of course he lived in a secluded home. Apparently, he felt secure enough not to have a home security system in place on this open ass house. In his defense, the house is a bit out of the way for any prospective robber to find. Or maybe a robber just wasn't stupid enough to pick John's place of residence for a home invasion.

Considering that, most of John's life is still a mystery to you, you were totally unaware of his daytime activities. For the sake of passing time, you watched shows in his impressive entertainment center while you waited till he returned. Since you still had plans to uphold your decision to fall off the face of digital earth for a while. A social media break would do you some good. No more mindless scrolling through your feed. The dog appeared to have developed a fondness for you just that quick and you'd since you didn't know his name, you'd taken to calling him 'sweetface'. The pooch lay snuggled up next to you on the couch, quilling your shot nerves for the moment. It was so sweet. And it had worked for a while until you made the decision to call Jasmine and drone on about your problems over the phone.

"And then he just gave me this look I've never seen before. Jasmine I swear to you, I feel so bad. He probably thinks I'm shutting him out and he doesn't deserve that." You groaned.

You could feel Jasmine rolling her eyes through the phone. "Calm down. Why do you always act like it's the end of the world when shit happens? Seriously, I'm gonna come through this phone and slap the shit outta you, cause you doing a little too much for me right now."

"Well bitch it feels like the end of the world to me!" You shouted, making the dog lift his head from your laps in surprise. You gave him a head rub as an apology.

Jasmine clicked her teeth. "When me and Freddy were together do you know how many I called him out of his name when we argued. I can't even count and we argued over stupid shit all the time. Did all the fighting just to makeup right after."

"That's because ya'll stayed on each other's nerves."

"Exactly. That man knows you're going through something where you tell him what that is or not is irrelevant. He's giving you some space to cool off and sort through it. If you ask me, it's nothing to panic about."

"We're never really fought or had an argument before. I've never raised my voice at him or anything. He's just really chill about everything."

"Believe it or not, there's some men that don't like to argue, especially with women."

"I just wish I hadn't gone to that stupid ass interview anyway."

"Well it's done now, you can't take it back."

"My cousin Esha hit her man upside the head with a glass bottle during an argument and they're still together."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it damn sure didn't. Our situations are totally different."

"I'm just saying."

"He's been gone for about three hours. I don't know where he is."

"You gotta learn to stop blowing things outta proportion. You at home? I'm coming over."

"No, I'm not. Hold on."

You sent a quick text to John asking if it was okay for your friends to come over and to your shock he obliges. You fully expected him to be reluctant about people he didn't know being in his house. Honestly, you still had a hard time believing that he purposely brought you to his home to begin with.

As you expected, the girls go coo-coo for cocoa puffs the minute they step foot into the house. You knew they'd be on goofy shit straight away, that's just who they were.

Once John's dog leapt from the couch and your friends caught sight of them, all hell seemed to break loose. Jasmine immediately takes off running around the living room, screaming like a maniac. Sweetface automatically took that as an invitation to play and happily chased Jasmine around the room.

You started making a bid to Jasmine to reassure her that the dog was friendly. Of course, you didn't expect her to listen in her panicked state. She was too busy moving like a track star, jumping over furniture.

"Girl, stop running! He ain't gon hurt you." Alexis insisted, trying and failing to hold in her cackles. She pulled out her phone and started to video the whole thing all while laughing hysterically.

Meanwhile Jasmine was jumping over couches and tables like a maniac.

"Hey! Don't break that man's stuff. I ain't got no money to replace nothing and you don't either."

"Girl, that's your man now, he'll replace it himself."

"Oop, no..come here sweetface!" You call out to the excited dog while snapping your fingers. Right away, the dog hears you calling and makes his way back over to you, looking up at you with the most innocent eyes. Most canines wouldn't dare listen to a person they just met but luckily this one is very sweet and disciplined. He was pretty much a reflection of his owner. John trained him well.

"Good dog." You acknowledge, rubbing behind his ears.

Alexis watches all this impressed while Jasmine is struggling to catch her breath on a nearby couch. "Does John have a brother, a cousin, a friend or something because damn!"

"Yeah this house is nice." Jasmine mumbled, unable to stop her eyes from shifting around the room and the dog.

"He has to be a drug dealer. This is drug dealer money right here. Where's the bird and monkey? All the big time drug dealers have erotic pets. My bitch bagged a rich man. All those nights blasting City Girls clearly paid off. I bet this rug made outta chinchilla or some shit."

You shook your head at them before leading Sweetface to a separate room so Jas wouldn't kill herself trying to get away from him. Ultimately, you took Alexis' words into account but you couldn't dumb John down to his money, he was more than that whether he had money or not.

Still, you were glad that your friends were here. You desperately needed rationality to clear your conscience. All three of you comfortably sat in the living room for a necessary girl talk.

"So one day we ran into this woman and she acted like her and John had dealings. He said they didn't...you can tell she was really pressed about me being with him."

"She's probably crazy and doesn't wanna leave him alone. It's like that sometimes." Jasmine shrugged, inwardly noting the time she busted out a guy's window because he was downplaying her feelings while entertaining other women.

Alexis shook her head and making the cut throat motion. "Well, I'm sorry but she's gonna have to let that go. My friend fucking with him now and that's her man."

"That woman is not trying to let that old thang go."

"Okay, so where she at? We can go jump the bitch right now." Alexis asked.

"Girl I don't know probably at the circus with that clown ass makeup. And I told y'all to stop calling him my man." You answered.

"I don't understand why you keep denying it?! That's your man point blank. You out here beefing with clown bitches just because she saw yall together."

"That can't be regular dick...it gotta be di`que." Jasmine humorously insinuated.

"Yeah, his dick gotta have your mind gone because you're way smarter than this. And you would've fought the girl on the spot."

"So what! Just because we fuck doesn't mean he trusts me like that. Plus I don't fight over men."

"Oh my fuckin...girl. Listen to me. He left you in his big boujee ass house, with his dog, while he's gone." Alexis stated, ticking off fingers one by one with every example. "He didn't think to kick you out or nothing. What does that add up to?"

"Look...we do what we do and it's just that. Ain't no emotion involved." The words sounded out of place coming out of your mouth since you automatically categorized them as a lie. You and John had already crossed the line of being fuck buddies too many times at this point for it to just be that. "...And I got other shit going on."

"I thought you drank all that sad shit away. That was the whole point of us going out."

"Lex, I'm not Solange. Me feeling some type of way one day won't magically disappear the next day."

"Well, at some point you gotta let the shit go. All it's doing is making you sick."

Sighing sadly, you offer a response, "My whole thing is…"

It wasn't like you weren't trying to let it go. You weren't perfect and you didn't try to be either. For all your pondering, you thought it was better to keep your mind off everything negative. Yesterday was the worst and you should've known that drinking wasn't going to help that. The disappointment was still fresh in your mind however, stabbing your chest with icy jabs. Regardless, you didn't regret throwing that hot coffee into the man's face. He deserved every bit of that and maybe more.

Personally, you hated being out in such a predicament in the first place. Crushing failure in any capacity would take the forefront of her mind but you were eager to shift that mindset as soon as possible.

"Just forget it. I'm not gonna bring it up again."

Jasmine and Alexis looked over at you with knowing eyes and you tried to guess what they were thinking but couldn't exactly pinpoint it. Alexis got up from the couch to mess around with the entertainment center and your brows furrowed.

"What are you doing? Touching stuff."

"We finna dance. You already ruined the mood with your sad shit and I'm tryna get lit in your man's big ass house. Now where the speaker at?"

"It's like 11'oclock in the morning."

"I don't give a damn. Now get y'all asses up. I'm not playin."

* * *

A certain dark-haired assassin walked in to view, an unreadable detachment reflected on his features to find you and your friends dancing in his living room. You were shocked because you didn't hear the front door open or close over the music. Even with the music choice of Sada Baby's 'Whole Lotta Choppa's', the human embodiment of death's traditional stoic expression was in place. You hope your friends were confronted at his demeanor. You knew it was kind of his time to remain uninvolved with most things going on around him - or at least that's the impression he tended to give.

You rushed to cut off the music and your girls looked at you like you were crazy until they spotted the owner of the house. Your cheeks colored with embarrassment. "Um...John. This is Jasmine and Alexis. Say hey y'all." After the statement, you gave them a side eye that read, 'Don't embarrass me further than I already am.'

Both women gave your lover their own personalized greeting.

"Hey John." Alexis confidently saluted, a big goofy smile on her face.

Jasmine gave a polite wave. "Hi. Nice to meet you."

"Hello." John's calm tone replied, offering no explanation of what he'd just walked into.

"I like your house John, my friend likes it too. Y'all should move in together." Alexis playfully mentioned.

"Okay. That's enough. Y'all it's time to go." You said, grabbing their purses and ushering them to get their shoes, shrone over the living room floor.

Alexis pouted. "I don't wanna leave, I wanna live here with y'all."

You were embarrassed enough that you started urging Jasmine and Alexis towards the door while John watched somewhat amused.

"Bye John!" Alexis laughed and you had to push her harder. She needed to get the fuck outta here before all hell broke loose.

"Okay...not him with the immaculate silk press lookin like Andre 3000." Jasmine quietly quipped as she followed closely behind.

"You can get off of him." You laughed. "Imma text y'all later."

"Alright bye bitch." The door was closed and you released a breath afterwards.

_Okay. That went well. _

When you finally built up the courage to turn around, you watched John carefully maneuver out of his brown leather jacket. Your legs felt like jello as they moved to walk towards him, stopping when you were nearly pressing chest to chest with him. "Um..I want to talk about something with you."

His defined eyebrows went up in a 'blink and you'll miss it moment' but he obliged nonetheless. Having gotten the assurance you wanted, you took a hold of his hand to guide him to sit on the couch with you. Once you take a calming breath and regather all your lost conviction, you lay everything out on the table for him - something you found impossible yesterday. And you left no detail out. Telling him about your prolonged feelings and how you'd been working to avoid confronting them not realizing that it was causing more damage than good.

John's face remained neutral the entire time. He didn't interrupt you from talking, eyes shining with understanding. He's as quiet and impenetrable as a Buddhist monk and he's the only person you were worried about being too forward with. You were starting to feel you were never in your right mind around him.

"...he had me fucked up so I threw some coffee in his face and left." You explained.

As your eyes shifted elsewhere, you failed to notice John trying not to let the ghost of a smile appear on his lips. There were other means to inform you that he was proud of your actions. Though for him, it was surprising to see your confidence waning and that you were virtually unable to come to a head about your emotions. He knew that you were overly passionate about your beliefs and tended to cling to them as tightly as you could.

"It hurt me because I always put 100% into everything I do when it comes to school. And by some twist of fate, everything just went down the drain." Your voice gradually slipped into a low whisper, you had tried hard to stop the tears from clouding your vision but it was no use.

"I've been under so much pressure lately and I just…"

Your voice suddenly breaks and tears spill from your eyes before you could stop them. You thought about just how pathetic and weak in front of an entire assassin. Despite that, in true John Wick-like fashion, one of his hands comes up to wipe the tears away from your face. This was one of the few times that he let his carefully crafted unflappable expression falter. That innocent action makes your breathing pick up, the warmth of his palm nearly making you melt. John induced such warm, fuzzy feelings in you that you couldn't really deny it anymore. You only wanted to exist in his world. You already made the integral choice not to try and escape the directness of his character a long time ago.

Whether he knew it or not, John was giving you a much-needed confidence boost. The man had a way of coaxing you in and any form of touch would have your body lit up like the fourth of July. You craned your head to look up into his handsome face. The smell of his cologne is entirely too comforting for you as you leaned into his chest. Trying not to be mesmerized by him altogether.

"Hey um...I'm really sorry about earlier. I should've told you." Truthfully, you didn't even know what you were apologizing about - you just felt like you owed him one. He wasn't the type to judge you for something so trivial as crying. "It's not like me to act like such a crybaby."

He silently studies your distressed face, brown eyes are intense and refined as they look into yours. "The only way to control your emotions is to show them. It's hard to control sadness if you never express it properly. Falling short of expectations is a part of life."

The words put a great many themes in perspective; the first being that trying to suppress emotions wasn't good. And the second being that confronting them would be your best bet. With anger, you usually can calm yourself down or the emotion will wane on its own. With sadness, there wasn't really much you could do. It was such a debilitating, pointless emotion that often hindered judgement and strayed away from logic. Even worse, the feeling decided when it would go away on its own.

"I will never judge you for crying. It's the natural thing to do in your predicament."

The full baritone of his voice is deeper than the Mariana Trench. You did your best not to let vivid flashbacks from last night take over your wayward subconscious. Heat begins to flood and twist into your stomach. Everything about him left much to be desired. Who would've thought a man like him liked over accessorized black women.

The two of you stared into each other's eye for long moments before the sound of whimpering from the other room drew the attention away. You'd forgotten all about his dog in the midst of everything. On top of that, your phone began buzzing loudly on the nearby table and you knew who it was before you even looked at it. Timing just had a knack for distractions you guessed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Crossing Boundaries**

**A/N: I've actually had this chapter done for quite a few days, I just wanted to release it in November. I mostly updated early so I can do my giant load of coursework and enjoy Season 2 of The Mandalorian without anything weighing on my conscience. I'm happy to see that you guys enjoyed John's insight/perspective, I'm thinking that I might start to include it in the story from time to time. John's usually more action-oriented than talkative and lots of his feelings are conveyed through that. **

* * *

Truthfully, you hadn't expected to be back at your parents house so soon if not at all. Luckily your friends were still in the area admiring other houses and made a U-turn to come get you only to bail on you completely when you told them what you were planning to do. They didn't want to be around when you broke the news to your folks and you could totally understand that.

You couldn't put it off any further. It was better to just go ahead and tell them to get it out of the way. Inform them before your mother started snooping and putting her nose where it didn't belong. She had the detective skills of a seasoned FBI agent when she wanted to find something out. You just couldn't take the risk of her digging too deep into your life and finding out about John at the present time. Things would turn extremely awkward and you were terrible at lying to them. They'd see right through you.

The house smelled like someone had cooked breakfast at some point. Walking past the living room and foyer, you found your mother in the kitchen on the phone with your father, who was gone on a fishing trip with some of his co-coworkers. You took a seat on a chair near the kitchen and quietly watched her straighten up parts of the pantry.

"I've been calling you nonstop." She said, and you instantly knew the question was directed at you.

"I know."

"How did the interview go?"

Inwardly, you sighed. Your mother always wasted absolutely no time getting right to the point.

"It came and went."

"What the hell does that mean? Did you get it?"

"Nope." You whispered.

At this, your mother hurriedly stepped away from the pantry, placing a hand on her hip. "No? And why not?"

"Turns out that the professor had already had it set up for someone else to get it."

"We'll, that's not right."

"He felt like a certain kind of person needed the position."

"And that kind of person would be?"

"Exactly what you think."

Frankly, you expected her to be furious but she's surprisingly calm. It worries you right away.

"I know good and goddamn well -"

"I got an email from the dean this morning. He wants to set up a meeting to discuss the incident."

"Good. Go get my purse from upstairs." She bids to you, and you recognize that determined look in her eyes.

Right before you slide off the seat, you can faintly hear your father speaking to your mother through the phone. "Baby, don't go to that school and clown. You've done enough of that already."

"Oh I won't."

But you knew better.

As you moved to ascend the stairs, a throbbing on the side of your head came out of nowhere, forcing you to freeze for a few moments and wait for the pain to stop. The pain was enough to induce some nausea and it made it extremely difficult to concentrate. You hadn't had a migraine like that for sometime but you definitely remembered what it felt like. You made a mental note to grab some ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom because you'd be damned if you dealt with the dizzying sensation all day. You already had enough to deal with as it was.

* * *

The receptionists are looking at the both of you nervously, almost as if they can recognize a disgruntled parent ready to raise hell about their child. They'd probably seen and had their fair share of incidents and gotten caught in the crossfire as well. You felt like you were in middle school again. Back then your mother had shown up to your school more than a few times to check teachers she felt had gotten out of line with you. It really used to embarrass you until you realized just how in the wrong the teachers were. Most of your former classmates still bring it up to this day if you happened to run into them on the street.

You didn't blame them for wanting to steer clear of any confrontation. Your mother wasn't anyone to play with. Speaking of which, she was entirely too calm about this and that scared you even more.

After about ten minutes, the receptionist led them in the office. Things really started to set in for you. The weight of what happened and your actions. This was serious.

You could say, "It is what it is" but at this point, what even is it?

The dean in question turned out to be a middle aged black man whom you'd never seen before. He was dressed in a nice, navy suit and wore thick-framed glasses. A picture frame of his family sat on the desk along with a snow globe, a stapler, and a few sheets of paper. The dean's job was to essentially try and be a mediator and find a solution to whatever issue arose with any particular student.

"I want to thank you both for coming here to meet with me to discuss the issue at hand." He acknowledged with a polite, professional tone. Hands folded neatly on the desk.

Your mother, however, wasn't moved in the slightest as she said, "Darnell, how long are you gonna sit there and act like you don't know me?"

You were slightly taken aback by what was unfolding in front of you. Your mother and the dean clearly know each other.

"Wait, you two know each other?"

"Yes, him and I went to school together."

The man held it together for a moment, before he slouched a bit in his head, releasing a sigh of relief. "You know I have to stay professional at work around these white folks."

You sat in the seat dumbfounded as they carried on a normal, friendly conversation while you felt like shitting bricks because of the nervousness concerning your undetermined education status. You're suddenly reminded of how when you were younger at church service, your mother would say it's time to go but start conversing with a person for twenty minutes afterwards. You hated when that happened.

"Mmhh...How's Tonya and the kids. I ain't seen em in I don't know how long."

"At the house running me ragged. The youngest girl is in her senior year in high school, just about ready to leave the nest."

"Are you ready for her to go?"

"Hell yeah. Me and Tonya will be on the first plane to Jamaica the second we drop her off at college."

"Oh I know the feeling."

You gave your mother a look that could be interpreted in many ways to which she ignored.

"I can't stress the importance of reaching an amicable solution in a timely manner. I want you ladies to know that the matter is being taken seriously and it's even been briefed to the President of the University."

"Wait, the President knows?"

He nodded. "He's placed the decision directly in my hands."

"The man, Professor Thomas, why isn't he here right now?"

"He's been removed pending the investigation, unpaid leave of course."

"That's a shame. I would've loved to give him a piece of my mind."

"I'm sure you would. It's crazy to see you haven't changed after all these years."

"What? Just because I've gotten older I'm supposed to turn into some peacemaker? To hell with that, ain't nobody gon mess with my baby's education. Y'all are taking much of her and our money for that matter anyway. In fact, y'all really need your asses whooped for that tuition balance."

The man held up his hands in a defenseless manner. "Look I'm just the dean."

"I'd like to hear your side of the story before any judgement is passed."

"The disputing party wants you expelled from the university but I believe there's a better way to handle the issue entirely."

Your heart leaped in your chest. Expelled? That asshole wanted you to be ejected from the university because of his actions. The nerve.

"He might just press assault charges as well."

"The way I'll have his ass in court on Monday morning. He doesn't want to play those games, trust me. My lawyer has never lost a case."

"I won't let them throw my baby under the bus for some old racist. I don't care how long he's worked here."

"We've received many complaints about him over the years regarding him and his behavior."

_So apparently, he'd been up to no good for a while. _You weren't surprised in the least, considering how he handled you. You felt relieved that the school was not trying to cover the incident up or make up an excuse for the professor conniving ways like many other institutions would've.

The shit would be funny except it fucking isn't. People like him thought it was okay to be stuck in their simple-minded ways.

"We've spoken to the station and explained the situation. I've spoken to the head of the station and they've agreed to allow you another opportunity next semester - that is, if you still want it."

"Given that all of your classes hinged entirely on the interview, you may take the rest of the semester off and still receive full credit. I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience."

"Thank you for your time."

Your mother was sorely pleased with the outcome and in a way you were too. In spite of everything, things always end up working out. Sometimes even better than a person can imagine. It could've been worse and it probably would have been had it not been for your mother. As long as you put forth the time and effort into your future, it was the only thing important. This was cause for a celebration.

You typed a quick text to John, briefly hesitating on whether you wanted to send it or not. "_How about I cook dinner at your place for tonight?"_

"_Sounds perfect."_

* * *

As promised, you cook dinner at John's place. Moving around in a t-shirt and shorts he likes so much. You naturally cleaned as you went, not wanting to go through the hassle of washing dishes or wiping the countertops after everything was done. It was one of the many things you'd picked up watching your parents cook over the years. You father preferred to use the grill but you still regarded him as an actual cook. Nobody made better barbecue than him. No one.

John sits patiently at the table, merely observing you rip and run around the kitchen. For as busy as you were, you didn't miss how sometimes his watchful gaze would lower and settle endearingly on your backside. Honestly, you shouldn't be so surprised - these were the shorts that got your ass eaten.

This was a strange predicament, you preparing dinner at his home. It was...domestic. Dangerously domestic. You did not cater to men folks like this and thus this was way out of character for you. Maybe you were just being overdramatic. But the two of you avoided speaking about the implications of what it might mean. This was the most at ease you've felt in nearly two days.

"Me and my mom met with the Dean of Students earlier today."

"And?"

"As for now, he's under investigation and I get to take the rest of the semester off."

"They think he might press charges on me in retaliation but I'm not worried. My mom's lawyer is scary good."

"Come outside. I have something to show you."

You raced to turn the sauce down on the stove to a low simmer before following after John.

On the side of the house there's a shiny black car, an Audi RS 7 from the symbol on the front with a big red bow on top. You'd seen this type of car on a few commercials here and there but to see it in front of you was something different entirely.

"You got a new car?"

"It's not for me."

"Then who's it for?"

You at him and the car nearly several times before you actually caught the gist of what he was implying. Time seemed to slow down at that moment.

"This isn't my car is it?"

"It is." He said it so simple, as if it was nothing.

Your breath caught in your throat. "What?"

Your jaw nearly fell to the ground. He couldn't be fucking serious - he couldn't be. This man did not just gift you with a whole fucking car. A luxury car at that. This wasn't how you were supposed to get a vehicle - there was a savings account for that. A savings account that had only six dollars in it but a savings account no less. At the very least, you'd prefer that he'd given you the money to purchase a car as opposed to him going out and buying it himself. It might not seem like a huge difference but to you it certainly was.

You didn't even know where to start. "Why...how?"

It was hard to vocalize all the thoughts racing in your mind dying to come out of our mind at once. This was totally unexpected.

"Do you like it?" He queried.

"No...I mean...Yes! I don't know...I just. Why would you do this?" You stammered, visibly fluttered.

"You were upset and you needed a car."

You remember the conversation that you'd had with him a few days ago where you'd mentioned solely relying on ours for transportation and the fact that he'd listened and taken the initiative to take care of it without you knowing made all the difference in the world. Now you viewed him in a whole different light because of it. John's duality was astonishing. The man was undoubtedly a ruthless killer and yet could turn into the kindest person in a room depending on the circumstances. Could it be that he was partly motivated because you broke down in front of him? It was feasible. He will literally drown you in affection without you having to ask for it. He was set on creating an environment where you could exist and want for nothing.

The group chat would be in shambles once the girls got a hold of this.

He kindly led you over to take a closer look at the car and you quietly obliged him. The front seats were wrapped in leather and suede with a three spoke steering wheel and stylish center and console. You slowly ran your fingertips over every available surface, utterly fascinated. Everything in the car felt so sleek and new. As a whole, the car was downright perfect.

"I...thank you." You said, looking straight into John's eyes.

John inclines his head, satisfied with your acceptance.

Something then popped in your head as an afterthought. "Hey...um, how much is the car note? I'm not sure if I can keep up on the payments."

"It's already paid for." He answered, already walking back towards the house, while you just sat there in shock, the key fob still in your hand.

The disbelief was just too much to take at this point. They were crossing boundary after boundary.

* * *

You thought you really outdid yourself with the steak and fettuccine alfredo. Having some garlic bread would really set it off but you had to work with what you had. You just really hoped he liked your cooking. Going by what you could see, he seems to enjoy the food on his plate, eating quietly at an even pace. His table manners were exactly what you expected them to be like - disciplined and refined all at once. At first, you worried that he didn't like your cooking. Even if the food was terrible, he probably wouldn't tell you. You shouldn't be dealing with anyone who isn't generous enough to buy you a whole car. You didn't consider yourself a simple woman though, you know what you like and how you like it. How you're treated is much more important than how much you like someone.

The red wine in your glass was sweet and smooth, it reminded you of minute maid juice with the way you were gulping it down glass after glass. You never drink wine with dinner, usually enjoying the alcoholic beverage at parties or get-togethers. The problem was that you were chugging the wine instead of sipping it like you were supposed to. You felt like an excited child whose parents let them stay up an extra hour. John himself, was on his fourth glass and probably had more than a little buzz going on.

The man's voice sounds deeper, more throatier than usual, possibly an effect of the wine. Lord knows, it was certainly having an effect on you. Both of you were decently past tipsy by this point. All you wanted now, was that veined monster in his pants.

When both of you had eaten your fill, you opted for a different approach to get the results you wanted.

"Let's play a game...a drinking game."

John crooks his left eyebrow, seemingly considering the proposal carefully. You let the question hang in the air, waiting to see if he would dignify it with a plausible answer. Serious doubt entered in your mind, the man was a fucking killer, you couldn't even conceptualize him playing any type of game for that matter. You imagined the life of a hired gun didn't much engage irrespectively with juvenile behavior. But still, you hoped for it nonetheless.

"Sure." He finally answers after some lengthy deliberation.

You smiled at that. "Okay. Let's play, 'Never Have I Ever'. Do you know the rules?"

A quiet subtle glint in his eyes confirmed that he probably had no idea what game you were talking about. This was expected.

"I make a statement about something you have or either haven't done. If you've done it, you take a drink, if not you don't take a drink."

Both defined brows went up this time and you suppress a laugh as not to give yourself away. This would be an interesting game - for you at least. John was a no nonsense type of man that would shut down something at the first hint and you don't want to test his patience to the point of aggravation. Although he was not one to show his aggravation outwardly to others.

"Never have I ever kissed someone of the opposite sex."

A shot for both of you.

"Never have I ever had a one night stand."

The two of you shared an additional shot.

"Never have I ever slept nude."

Another shot.

"Never have I ever made out with a complete stranger."

By now, he had to know that the line of questioning was deliberate. He was way too intelligent not to catch unto your little game with questionable intentions.

"Never have I ever slept with someone older than me."

To your surprise, he actually took a shot along with you. Given the fact you were at least ten years younger than him, it wouldn't astonish you that he'd taken up relations with someone older than himself. He was a man after all.

"Never have I ever watched porn."

Yet another shot.

Oh that one was interesting. So he watches porn. That was much more fascinating than you could've thought.

"Never have I ever had phone sex."

This time, John's gaze settled upon you with an accusatory glint in his eyes, slowly lifting the glass of wine to his mouth and downing it in one go while you mirrored his actions.

You were totally cheating as you presented all the questions that were specifically geared towards things you knew for a fact the two of you had engaged in with one other. In laden terms, these were things you knew the both of you had done at some point or the other. He was still willing to indulge you however and he honestly didn't seem like the type to participate in these kinds of games. You knew that he didn't do anything he didn't want to and there was something about him that made you incredibly bold.

Both of you were drinking the maroon liquid too fast and now the tension was so thick in the air that you could practically feel it. It should be recognized that your body always took notice of the contract killer when he was in the immediate vicinity. The liquor had just made it even worse.

"Are you not horny? It's so horny in here." You remarked, fanning yourself with a hand.

John knowingly provided you no rebuttal instead swiveling those intense chestnut orbs on you as you inadvertently give yourself away. His answer was clearly written all over his face however.

His eyes were creating a fire in between the two of you and the arousal you were feeling increased tenfold. His jaw was set and his eyes were narrowed, fiery gaze indecipherable. Beyond everything else, you thought the look was one of the most telling expressions he'd ever given you. After careful consideration, you inched closer to him, hand moving to press against his upper thigh exceedingly near his manhood. His frame immediately goes rigid beneath your touch and your heart hammers loudly against your ribcage at the look he was giving you.

John dwarfed you as he unexpectedly stood elegantly from his chair. The man's hands came up under your armpits and pulled you into a standing position flush against his moderately warm body. He easily lifted you off your feet and carried you over to the living room couch, his mouth passionately latched onto yours. The inside of his mouth tasted exactly like the wine. John comfortably settled you in his lap and you surrendered to the lips, kissing, sucking, and nuzzling at your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips skimmed the sensitive spot on your neck. He pressed his tongue against your racing pulse. John wrapped his arms around your back, keeping you suffocatingly close to his body.

You let in a shuddering breath, rubbing your hands over his broad, muscled shoulders. Before long, your lover's hands came down to rub and massage your ass in retaliation. Without further prompting, you took to rocking atop his hardened shaft and rubbing yourself against that hard bulge. His hands switched to caressing the soft skin of your thighs and sliding along them while your hands came up to bury themselves in his soft, raven-colored hair. Fingertips danced across the skin of your back as the oversized shirt you were wearing started to come up inch by tantalizing inch before he brought it up and off your body in a fluid motion.

He admired the alluring sight of your bra covered breasts, palms coming up to hold the delicate flesh. It didn't take much for him to release the small fabric from your chest and let it join your shirt on the floor. Following that, John brought your chest closer to his waiting furnace of a mouth where he quickly latched into your nipple with no hesitation. Your head fell back with a mewl. He started gently tweaking and squeezing your nipples, showering both erect buds with attention. Once his tongue circled around your areola, you felt like your entire world had fallen completely to the background and there was only you and him in this moment that mattered.

The sound of a phone ringing broke the world of bliss you'd fallen into and you felt slight irritation zip up your spine for a second. The device belonged to John as it sat on a small table that held a lamp next to the couch. A glaring reminder that what you wanted was just out of reach. Just. It's owner leaned away from your pillowly cleavage, reaching to answer whoever was calling and you couldn't help but feel neglected in the moment. You quickly trailed you hands around the front of his neck, pulling his face back towards you

John's hand snapped to your neck with lightning speed, starling you into forgoing your desperate actions altogether. The aggressiveness shocked you into silence. His stare held a foreboding glare before he reached out to retrieve the vibrating phone.

John coolly held the device to his ear, not even bothering to speak. As the person on the phone began to speak, John merely held your doe-like stare. You couldn't tell if he was paying attention to what the person on the other end of the phone was saying. Not sure if he even gave a fuck about entertaining them. Whilst the other person was still speaking, John wordlessly ended the call - powering the phone down thereafter. The device was then set aside and you had all of his attention once more. The room temperature seemed to rise afterwards. There will be no more interruptions for the time being.

_Oh right._

Lifting yourself off his lap, you lowered unto your knees in front of him working to open his pants and take him out. You marvel at the contours of his dick, holding the weight of it in your hands. Your lips wrapped around the sensitive mushroom tip, kissing it softly before running your tongue over it. In all honesty, you were starting to think that you enjoyed sucking his dick more than he did. You swallow down his shaft, taking him deep in your throat with the eagerness of an experienced slut. This time, you didn't even have the capacity to choke - only focusing on swallowing around the muscle and regulating your breathing through your nose. Under your lashes, you observed John's head falling back against the back of the couch with his eyes closed, obviously in a state of relish. You could plainly see the desire painted across the hitman's rugged features. The sight could only be described as sexy.

You ignored the sudden ache making itself known in your jaw while drooling excessively to accommodate your actions. This was without doubt one of the sloppiest blowjobs you've ever given. A hand held the back of your head, carefully not to pull at your loose braids. You loved that the man was always cautious of touching your hair, usually waiting for your permission to do so first. You wrapped a hand around the base, moving it up and down as you sucked indulgently. Solely focused on stimulating your deadly lover. The taste of salty male essence hitting your coating your tongue. A low groan reverberated from his chest and your pussy clenches involuntarily. This would end up getting you the fuck of your life.

To you, John would always remain a major source of intrigue. The arrangement should be 50/50 - you make him dinner and he eats you out for desert. It felt good to be in the arms of a killer.

Your entire body started to pulse with delight, the throbbing below your navel most prevalent. The wetness in your shorts couldn't be ignored anyway. Soon you're blushing intensely and panting heavily, nearly quivering with lust. The heat invoked by him had your pussy tingling. The wine had you horny as fuck and you wanted him to do something about it. The alcohol makes you bolder and nasier for some reason, presumably from knowing that he'd be inside of you soon.

Your eyes are tear stained, lips burning as you pull back and slip him out of your mouth. A shudder passes through him so quickly that you nearly miss it.

"Good girl." He acknowledges.

You're preening at his words as he headily maneuvers you on the surface of the couch, on your back.

His brown orbs were darkened and focused exclusively on your soaked crotch, concealed by the shorts he was fond of. John leered with a heated expression - like he wanted to devour you on the spot. Fingers danced across the seam of your shorts before dipping in to roll the garment down past your thighs. He breathed in deeply, savoring your intoxicating scent, kissing along your inner thighs forcing slippery excitement to slip out in increasing amounts. His tongue rolled over every crease and crevice of your cunt, drawing out delicious whimpers out of you. You arched off the couch, your lips parting to admit a long moan.

"You taste good." He says quietly, lust deeply attached to the words.

You'd never heard a man say that to you while eating you out. Juices started to seep out of you like a leaky faucet as a result.

He slid his wet muscle between your folds, paying extra attention to your clit, slathering saliva all over the source of your warmth. "It's so wet."

"For you." You breathlessly added. "Can you just...just take your pants off. I want it now please."

You've had enough of all the kissing, touching, and teasing. It was time to get down to business. You were too drunk to deny yourself any further.

Without waiting, you leaned up and reached down to grab his face and slam your lips back unto his. He lets you take over work to quickly remove him from his clothes before the position was soon altered into straddling him for the last time. You angled him upwards and you slowly slid down to accept him with a whine. Hot juices soaked his dick as your inner muscles squeezed tightly around him. John began languidly rolling your hips into his lap after a brief adjustment period, forcing you to take it to the hilt each time. You continuously implied yourself unto his hot pillar of hard flesh. Your lover gave you a penetrating look as you bounced on his lap, inciting a symphony of mewls and moans. John's molten orifice latched onto your right nipple, pulling on it with wet sucks, sending you into a spiraling void of pleasure.

After about thirty seconds, your thighs started burning and you had to take a moment. This was the most exercise you've done all week. It was a shame that you didn't have Megan Thee Stallion's knees, you probably would have maintained the position longer.

Luckily, you're repositioned on your back again, legs splayed in the crook of his arms.

His thrusts were slow but still had an urgency to them. The strokes were slow and measured, the friction felt heavenly. His pubis was rubbing against your cunt deliciously, causing a sensory overload. He intentionally began making circles with his hips, you get lost in a haze of pleasure, the sensation making your body tremble. At this angle, he was aiming right for your sweet spot every time. It dawned on you that Alexis' assumption was right on the mark - your mind was totally gone. You're suddenly jealous of everyone he's ever been with like this but not too jealous since you're the one with his full attention.

The pair had never had slow sex before and you were left wondering why they hadn't done it sooner. Every sensuous movement felt prolonged and intense.

You noticed a light film of sweat started to glisten over his skin. John is gifted in more ways than one. His sex and personality are so bomb you start crying right in the middle of it because you realized you might have to kill someone over him. You'd already made up your mind that if they decided to part ways, he and his new bitch would never know peace if you had anything to do with it. One hand was holding your cheek, while the other held your thigh open.

The most arousing aspect of everything was that John was whispering heated praises against your ear in that familiar language you couldn't decipher all whilst he continued ruining you. You couldn't understand any of his filthy words and yet they lit a fire hotter than hell in your body. The slow pounding tempo made your toes curl painfully, his body unleashing a pleasurable assault on your body. You were feeling it in places that you didn't even know you could.

"Voz'mi eto. YA znayu, chto mozhesh', ya videl, kak ty eto delal ran'she."

"...Ston dlya menya."

He's still murmuring praises to you in that unknown language easing that gorgeous dick in and out of you. His voice is darker and full of depth. You don't know why whispering during sex was so sexy but it was.

"YA nikogda ne ostavlyu tebya, milaya. YA nikogda ne smogu nasytit'sya toboy." He uttered with an almost feral groan.

There was that word again. Whatever it meant, it must be a term of endearment for you.

"Ah fuck!" You breathed.

John's movements paused for a moment, he seemed to regard you before saying, "Watch your mouth." all while looking into your pleasure etched face. The grip of your fluctuating core threatened to unman him - your walls were clenching and unclenching around his dick. He loved this - he was showing you that he truly loved doing this. Acting as if he can't get enough of this - of you.

You were too busy getting the stroke of your life. It was ecstasy of the highest degree and you never wanted to come down. A heavy pressure in your stomach makes itself known. You began to feel the welcome sensation of an approaching orgasm. Every muscle in your body stiffened and your insides started spasming uncontrollably, a myriad of colors exploded behind your eyes, a wave of rapture coursing through your overwrought body. You feel the hot spurts of cum spilling into you as you seize up. Close to a second later, he filled your womb full of hot cum. You felt lifeless, limbs heavier than normal.

It took more than a few moments for both of you to recover. John leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your parted lips, leading to both of you staring longingly into each other's eyes afterwards. His eyes were full of admiration and you were of sound enough mind to know that your eyes were the same. They couldn't put a name to their actions. This was much deeper than either of them knew. Both were satisfying a greater need for each other. Both of you were internally committed to each other on the same scale. They'd inevitably crossed a few lines, especially with the car situation and there was no going back. He knew could sense that your heart, mind, spirit, and intentions were pure. Maybe that's why he was doing all these unexpected things for you like letting you stay in his home and buying you cars.

He had no idea that you were hopelessly in love with him.

* * *

Translations: Voz'mi eto. YA znayu, chto mozhesh', ya videl, kak ty eto delal ran'she. = "Take it. I know you can, I've seen you do it before."

Ston dlya menya. = "Moan for me."

YA nikogda ne ostavlyu tebya, milaya. YA nikogda ne smogu nasytit'sya toboy. = "I'll never leave you milaya. I can't ever get enough of you."


End file.
